


I Really Can't Stay (Baby, It's Cold Outside)

by musette22, paperstorm



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Sebastian Stan, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Evanstan - Freeform, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Lawyer Sebastian Stan, M/M, POV Alternating, Romance, Small Town Dreamboat Chris Evans, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musette22/pseuds/musette22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: When a hot-shot New York lawyer gets stranded in a sleepy, New England town because of a snow storm right before Christmas, he thinks it might just be the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. Then, he meets a handsome, bearded stranger in a local bar, who slowly but surely teaches him the true meaning of Christmas is finding love where you least expect it.Disclaimer: we have deliberately tried to incorporate as many clichéd and cheesy romantic Hallmark-esque movie tropes into this fic, just because if you can’t do it at Christmas, when can you, eh?
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 211
Kudos: 508
Collections: stuckyflix: christmas edition





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story was born out of many conversations about how Chris Evans is genuinely one of those 'too good to be true' type love interests in a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie, where the protagonist is a Busy Business Lady from the Big City who is Too Busy And Important For Christmas and then gets stranded in a small town and meets a guy who is so ridiculously sweet and kind and good that it's utterly unrealistic, except in real life Chris actually IS that unrealistically good small-town person. After yelling at each other about it for weeks, we decided to write it. Merry Christmas if you celebrate it! 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Sebastian stares at the notification on his phone screen as if by staring hard enough he might be able to change what it says.

_We apologize for the cancellation of your Delta flight DL928 from Boston Logan International Airport to John F. Kennedy International Airport on 12/20/2019 due to extreme weather conditions._

“Everything okay, sir?”

Sebastian lifts his head to meet the questioning look the cab driver is giving him in his rear view mirror and huffs an incredulous laugh. “My flight got cancelled.”

Another notification pops up, this time from a local news outlet which informs him that the snowstorm that is currently raging all around them has in fact grounded all air traffic – not just Sebastian’s Boston-to-New York flight but all other flights too. Of course, that changes nothing about his own situation. He’s still stuck in a taxi somewhere between Concord and the Logan Airport, stranded on the highway in traffic that’s moving at a snail’s pace due to limited sight and a slippery road surface. And what’s worse, it would seem he’s also stuck in Massachusetts, with no way to get back to New York tonight. He’d thought a short distance flight like his would be fine – surely the airports around these parts were used to a little snow in December – but it seems he thought wrong.

“Ah,” the cab driver, a portly, mustachioed man probably in his early 40s, nods. “Kinda figured it might be headin’ that way.”

Sebastian groans, dropping his head in his hands. “So, what do I do now?”

“Well, we could try to get you to Boston anyway and you could wait out the storm there, but there’s no telling how long it’ll take – both the storm and how long before we get to Boston. We’re less than halfway. And there’s a good chance all the hotels will be packed, of course. Usually are when this kinda thing happens.”

“Right,” Sebastian sighs. “Any other options?”

The driver shrugs. “There’s an exit coming up that would take us back to Concord, I reckon we can make it back in an hour, hour and a half.” He waits a moment before adding, “My brother-in-law owns an Inn in town, I could drop you off there so you’ve got a place to stay tonight?”

An Inn. What is this, the Gilded Age? Still, it’s not like he has much choice. It’s better than sleeping on the floor of an airport for who knows how long. “Alright,” he tells the cabbie. “Take me back then, please.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

\---

The driver’s brother-in-law’s inn turns out to be a homey, country-style hotel with a restaurant and, more importantly, a bar attached. Sebastian dumps his coat on the bed in his room upstairs. He hadn’t anticipated an overnight stay, so he doesn’t have a change of clothes, let alone a toothbrush. He calls his office manager to explain the situation and that he won’t make it in tomorrow like he usually does, even though it’s a Saturday. He gets tense, barely controlled annoyance through the line, as if a freak New England snowstorm is somehow Sebastian’s doing. It takes every ounce of self-control he has, which in his current mood is not much at all, to take the undeserved abuse on top of his general irritation when an update weather report predicts the storm could last days, leaving highways closed and planes grounded and thousands of people potentially unable to go home for Christmas. Sebastian’s never cared much for the holidays anyway, so it’s not worse than being stuck here in June. At least, not for him. Except for the cold.

He grabs his briefcase and heads downstairs to the bar. It’s surprisingly busy, so Sebastian suspects the place also acts as a local watering hole rather than exclusively as a hotel bar. The dark, wood-paneled walls and brown, leather chairs lend the bar an old-timey class that’s at odds with the mishmash of patrons. People Sebastian’s age and younger, elderly ladies and gentlemen, but also what seem to be entire families with kids of all ages are all gathered around tables, eating and drinking or just playing board games.

Sebastian sighs internally, a little annoyed at the hustle and bustle, but mostly at himself for not bringing his laptop which means he is now stuck having to do old fashioned paperwork. With a pen. Like a damn pioneer. He finds a seat at an empty stretch of bar and orders himself a stiff drink from the girl behind the bar to make the task if not easier than at least a little more enjoyable. Putting the opened briefcase next to him on a bar stool, he grabs a stack of forms and tries to make the best of it.

Outside, the wind howls. Every time Sebastian looks up, snow is blowing quicker and more dramatically, building up in massive drifts that reach the bottoms of the window panes. He’s thankful at least he doesn’t have to go back outside tonight, like most of the people in here likely will. But then he’s ticked off all over again that he’s stuck here, who knows for how long, and his moment of gratitude is brief. The Christmas music over crackling speakers is far too loud and far, far too cheery. If he hears one more sleigh-bell, he might actually scream.

By the time dusk has fallen, the dim lighting in the bar is straining Sebastian’s tired eyes as he pores over the paperwork, not exactly improving his already shitty mood. He still can’t believe he’s stuck in Concord, of all places; so close yet so far from his apartment in Chelsea and his office on the Upper East Side.

It’s not unusual for Sebastian to visit clients out of state; he represents one of the best family law firms in the country, and plenty of wealthy soon-to-be-divorced couples prefer flying in some hot shot lawyer from the City over hiring some local guy who they probably see in church every Sunday. Sebastian is a true city boy, though. He’s lived in New York since he was a boy and he and his Mom moved there from Romania, and has never even thought of moving away since. If he’s honest, he can’t understand why people would choose to live in a town when they could live in a city. Manhattan is fast paced, dynamic, glamorous – as long as you stay on the right side of town, that is. It’s got high-end luxury apartments and glitzy parties and plenty of hot guys to have one-night stands with, if Sebastian so pleases. Granted, lately he’s been so swamped that he’s had to turn down a couple of potential lays because he was afraid he might actually fall asleep on them half way through the deed, and, you know; he’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s a relatively young, successful family lawyer living the high life in the heart of the best city in the world. He’s got everything he ever dreamed of as a kid who moved to the States from revolution-stricken Europe, and if he sometimes wonders why nothing seems to be able to make him smile anymore, he always stops that train off thought before it can really get going.

So maybe he doesn’t really see his mother or old friends all that often anymore, and maybe being constantly surrounded by couples who hate each others’ guts and argue about money over their children’s heads can make a guy a little sick to the stomach sometimes, but he makes a hell of a lot of money, is well-respected and can tolerate his co-workers. That’s all he needs, really.

About an hour into the evening, Sebastian has just finished going through his case file from today and is lifting his glass to drain the last drops of his bourbon, when a joyous, booming laugh calls his attention. He turns instinctively on his bar stool to look for the source of the sound that managed to cut through the howling of the wind outside and the din of the bar, and spots a tall, broad-shouldered man with his back to the bar at the pool table. He’s surrounded by three – no, four – white-haired, elderly ladies, each clutching a pool cue that is taller than they are.

“Try holding it like this,” the guy says in a deep voice, going to stand behind one of the women and helping her shoot a ball right into one of the corner pockets. The three other ladies are giggling and clearly eyeing the guy’s backside, but he good-naturedly pretends he doesn’t notice and takes turns with each of them. The guy laughs again and it’s the fact that he genuinely sounds like he’s having the time of his life teaching them how to shoot pool that makes Sebastian suppresses a snort. Is he for real? Sebastian has seen more than his fair share of guys working angles in bars, but _what_ angle one could possibly be working on a group of geriatrics, he hasn’t the slightest clue.

As if he heard Sebastian’s thoughts, the next moment the stranger suddenly turns around and looks straight at him. Sebastian has a split second to think _fuck, he’s gorgeous_ , before he quickly averts his eyes, hastily turning around on his chair again. In his haste, he accidentally hits his knee on the bar stool next to him, jostling it and sending his open briefcase and all the papers in it tumbling to the floor.

“Shit,” he mutters, quickly sliding to the floor to pick up his stuff, inwardly groaning, both at the fact that he’ll have to reorder the whole pile and because he just made a massive fool out of himself in front of the hottest guy he’s seen in a long, long time. He reaches for a stenciled form that’s drifted a little out of the way when his hand collides with another hand.

Startled, he looks up, straight into the blue, blue eyes of the handsome stranger. If he was nice to look at from across a dimly lit bar, up close he’s so attractive it’s just categorically unfair. His hair is ruffled, like he’d just rolled out of bed, more effortlessly stylish than some guys Sebastian’s dated after an hour of primping. It looks so soft his fingers itch to touch it. His cheeks and jaw are covered in a neat, closely trimmed beard, brown like his hair but with just a hint of red in it. His nose is nicely shaped if a little crooked, his lips are plump and pink, his teeth are _perfect_. And his eyes are so, so blue, framed by lashes that must be half an inch long in the center.

“Uh,” Sebastian says intelligently.

The guy smiles at him. Or, it’s more of a smirk, really, as if he knows exactly what Sebastian is thinking.

Sebastian scowls at him. “Thanks,” he mutters, taking a bunch of paper from the guy’s hand.

“No problem, happy to help,” the guy says, and damn, his voice is really very deep and clear and very, very attractive.

Sebastian stands, tapping the edges of the papers against the bar to straighten out the pile so he can stick them back into his briefcase. He’ll need to sort them, but he’s not about to do that here, when the guy is still hovering two feet away.

“Working on a Friday night?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice that slips like warm honey down Sebastian’s spine. “At a bar?”

“As are you,” Sebastian returns, nodding in the direction of the old ladies by the pool tables, who are also watching them closely. Suddenly Sebastian feels like hundreds of eyes are on him, being observed by everyone from the leather-clad bartender to a group of middle-aged men at a table in the corner. He’d been more-or-less fading into the background until this moment, but now that a local has spotted him, it’s like they all have. The whole place seems to suddenly notice him, in his expensive suit and his Italian shoes and his 100-dollar haircut, sticking out like a sore thumb.

When he glances back at the man, his face has folded into a frown, clearly offended at the implication that his spending time with the ladies could be described as _working_.

Sebastian sighs. “Sorry. I’ve had a shit day.”

Eyeing him closely, the man presses his lips together and nods. “I guess most people don’t do paperwork in a bar if they haven’t had a shit day.”

“Yeah. I don’t… think you’re a prostitute or something. In case that wasn’t clear. In case that’s what it sounded like I meant. I mean, unless you actually are, which, you know, is also fine,” Sebastian adds, stammering through it, and the guy’s frown melts back into a smirk. He laughs. He’s _laughing_ , and Sebastian can’t. He sighs again, shoving his papers roughly back into the case and shutting it more abruptly than he needed to. “Alright. Thanks again for the help.”

“No, I’m sorry,” the guy says, still chuckling but making a concerted effort to stop. His cheeks turn pink when he laughs, and it’s something Sebastian really, really didn’t need to know about a person he’ll likely never see again. “I’m sorry. That was an insanely wrong foot to get off on, could we start over? Hi, I’m Chris.”

The hand he extends is big, fingers long and skin as pale as his face and neck. Which, now that Sebastian looks closely, has a spot with two freckles right close together that are just calling for his mouth. He internally gives himself a shake. It’s not real, none of this is. He’s just exhausted, and he doesn’t want to be here, and it’s been an unhealthily long time since he got laid.

He reaches his own hand out, warm fingers curling around his palm as he shakes. “Sebastian.”

“I like that,” Chris says, with another devastating smile.

“I’ll let my Mom know,” Sebastian responds.

The smile widens. The skin at the outer edges of his eyes crinkles. Disastrous, every minute of this.

“Are you new around here?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I should be on a flight to JFK right now. But the storm.”

“Ah.” Chris’s nose wrinkles up in sympathy. “That sucks, sorry to hear it.”

He sounds like he genuinely means that. Sebastian deals all day, every day, with people who don’t mean a damn word they say unless the truth just happens to coincide with whatever they’re trying to get out of another person. The sincerity on Chris’s face leaves him a little off-balance. And maybe even more annoyed than he already was. It’s bad enough he might be stuck here for the next few days. The least this town could’ve done is provide an environment that matches his misery, instead of sending him a helpful cab driver and a quaint hotel and a handsome man in a sweater with a beard and a kind smile, just to make Sebastian feel fully like an asshole for being miserable in this charming place.

“I don’t wanna keep you from whoever you’re here with,” he says.

“I’m not here with anyone.”

Sebastian looks over, and the ladies Chris had been entertaining have all given up on him and gone back to their table. “So you’re in a bar alone on a Friday night, and you’re giving me a hard time about doing paperwork?”

“Hey, you kinda called me a hooker,” Chris says. He spreads his arms out and smiles. “So we’re definitely even.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you want some company?”

 _Yes_ , Sebastian wants to say, but he also doesn’t want this man’s pity. He’s not the first person in history to be snowed-in. He’ll survive, even if he’s grumpy about it every step of the way. “Your fan-club has given up on you, I guess.”

Chris purses his lips. Instead of answering, he sits down on a barstool and holds his hand up to the bartender. When she comes over, he says, “Hey, Gina, I’ll take a Bud, and another of whatever my new friend was drinking. Put it on my tab, he needs cheering up.”

Sebastian sighs for the third time. He sets his briefcase back on the bar and sits next to Chris. The bartender comes back only seconds later with their drinks, setting them down on the glossy wooden surface and exchanging a hard to interpret look with Chris before she heads off to help another patron.

“Is there something important you’re missing, in New York?” Chris asks conversationally.

Sebastian glances sideways at him. He picks up his new glass and sips at it, the bourbon sliding warmly down his throat. “Just work.”

“It’s not, like, your wedding tomorrow, or something?”

Sebastian snorts. “No.”

“Doesn’t seem _so_ terrible, then. At least you get a good excuse to miss work.”

“I like my job,” Sebastian answers with a shrug. “Plus I wasn’t expecting to stay overnight, so I have literally nothing with me.”

“There’s a corner store down the road. You can at least get a toothbrush and some underwear.”

Sebastian looks at Chris, assessing, then nods. “Thanks.”

He manages not to blush over the idea of Chris saying the word _underwear_ in conjunction with him, for which he’s quite proud of himself. Then again, it’s utterly ridiculous that he even had to hold it back. He’s a grown man, he’s a lawyer for fuck’s sake, a handsome stranger shouldn’t be able to make him blush so easily.

Forcing his eyes away from Chris’s face and down to his own hands, Sebastian says, “So, Concord, huh? Lots of exciting stuff going down here, I’m sure.” He’s aware that it comes out a little mockingly, but come on, this town has a population of, what, 20 thousand?

Chris raises an eyebrow. “Actually, mister city slicker,” he says, drawing out the vowels into an exaggerated New England accent, “I’ll have you know there is plenty of excitement to be found around these parts. For _example_ , tomorrow morning we have the annual gingerbread house making contest, hosted at our very own community center.” He pulls a serious face and gravely continues, “It’s generally a tense affair. The stakes will be high. Last year, Mrs. Mulligan narrowly won the highly coveted title of Concord’s star baker from underdog Mrs. Cain, who has sworn revenge by icing ingenuity.”

Sebastian snorts a laugh, reluctantly charmed by the mental image Chris is sketching.

“Gosh. However will you manage to sleep tonight,” he says, deadpan.

“Oh no, I won’t sleep a wink. But it’s worth it.” 

“I’m sure it is.”

“You should come.”

Sebastian blinks. “To the gingerbread contest?”

“To the gingerbread house making contest, yes,” Chris nods. With a sly look, he adds, “Unless of course you’ve got something better to do tomorrow morning. More paperwork, perhaps?”

Sebastian mock-glares at him, but Chris has got a point. It’s either a gingerbread contest or re-reading the Milton family’s case file, and to be honest, he’s had quite enough of those guys for a little while. The mother is being entirely unreasonable about a number of frivolous things, and there are two sweet little kids caught in the middle of it all. Fortunately, he won’t have to visit them again after this, since the final hearing will be in New York, but still, a bit of a break from all that wouldn’t be unwelcome.

“Is all the gingerbread for building purposes, or will there also be opportunity to sample these culinary delights?”

Chris grins. “Oh, don’t you worry, there’s more than enough to go around for the spectators. Mulled cider, too.”

“Oh well, then that decides it,” Sebastian says resolutely. “If there’s alcohol, I’m in.”

“I should’ve led with that, huh?” Chris says, amused.

“Nothing gets me in the holiday mood like pre-noon drinking.”

That gets another laugh out of Chris, and Sebastian feels oddly like purring at the sound.

Draining the last of his beer, Chris sets down the bottle on the bar, then drums his fingers on the hardwood counter top. “Wicked,” he says. “Community center is just a little way up the road, big red brick building. Can’t miss it. Contest starts at ten. Don’t be late.”

Sebastian quirks an eyebrow at him. “I’m a lawyer. I'm always on time, I have to be.” 

Chris just looks at him for a moment, green blue eyes on Sebastian’s grey blue ones. “A lawyer, huh,” he says thoughtfully. “Corporate law, or…?”

Something in the way Chris looks at him makes Sebastian feel like his answer is going to be important. Like Chris will be disappointed if he turns out to be working for Chevron or BP or something. He’s got that gentle lumberjack look about him, like he loves spending time in the great outdoors, teaching kids how to climb trees and catch fish with their bare hands. The mental image makes Sebastian smile, until he realizes that Chris is still looking at him expectantly and he hasn’t given him an answer to his question yet.

“Uh,” he says, feeling inexplicably nervous. For some reason he can’t quite put his finger on, Sebastian’s skin crawls at the idea of disappointing this man he’s only just met. “Not corporate, no. Just family law.”

Something in Chris’s expression loosens, and Sebastian draws in a relieved breath while at the same time resisting the urge to facepalm. He’s being completely ridiculous. Chris might be gorgeous, but he’s just a guy. Sebastian meets plenty of good-looking guys in New York, it’s no big deal. Or it shouldn’t be.

“Ah.” The sympathy in Chris’s eyes feels genuine, not just for conversation’s sake. “Divorces and stuff, huh? Must be tough sometimes.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Only if you let it get to you. I like to think I’m a professional.” He lets his eyes flick over Chris’s form for a moment. “What is it you do?”

“Oh, you know,” Chris says vaguely. “This and that. I help out where I’m needed.”

“I see,” Sebastian smirks. “Sure you’re not a hooker?”

“Why, interested?” Chris volleys back. But before Sebastian can splutter out a reply, Chris gets up off his chair, saluting the bartender before turning back to him. “Sweet dreams, Sebastian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he watches Chris collect his coat and say his goodbyes to practically every single person in the bar before he leaves, Sebastian is all too aware of his burning cheeks. He wants to blame it on the bourbon and he almost manages to convince himself, until he turns back around and meets the knowing gaze of the girl behind the bar. She’s looking at him like she knows exactly what’s got him so flustered; like she gets it. For a split second, Sebastian wonders if she ever slept with Chris, and he’s surprised at how much he dislikes the thought.

Get a grip, man.

With a sigh, Sebastian gets up from his stool, puts a tenner down for his first drink and goes to grab his coat. Here’s hoping that store is still open.

\---

It’s not the best night’s sleep he’s ever had, but it isn’t the worst either. Sebastian doesn’t need complete silence – he can’t, living in the City – but the sound of the storm raging outside was very different to the usual chorus of blaring sirens and car horns mixed with agitated voices he’s used to. Then again, the bed really was extremely comfortable. He wouldn’t be surprised if the duvet had been stuffed with the down of hand-reared, local geese.

He showers and dresses, having to put on the same clothes he was wearing yesterday because he managed to get some new socks and underwear at the store but not anything else. He leaves the tie. Figures he’ll look out of place enough in a suit, at least he can leave the top few buttons of his lavender dress shirt undone to feign the appearance of being casual. As soon as he steps out the door of the Inn, Sebastian pulls his thick, merino wool coat tighter around himself against the icy wind and flurry of snow. It’s a good thing it’s only a short walk to the community center, because Sebastian’s expensive designer footwear is distinctly unfit for trudging through two feet of snow. If at all possible, he’d rather not ruin his shoes and have his feet freeze off, thanks very much. When he spots the building Chris had described, he breathes a sigh of relief, speeding up his pace as much as he can without running the risk of slipping and falling flat on his ass.

The moment he enters the building, he’s greeted by the mouthwatering smell of freshly baked gingerbread, wafting in from one of the rooms a little down the corridor. He stops for a moment in the doorway, taking in the space. Every available surface is covered in decorations; red and green and glitter, snowflakes, stars, angels. It looks a little bit like Santa Claus threw up all over the entire building. Tall, white-painted casement windows make up one wall of the room while the back wall is occupied by a kitchen setup with a sink and a couple of ovens. Various women are crouching in front of those while others are chatting around a big, oak table in the middle of the room. It’s not just women, though; there’s some kids around too, and a few men, most of them 50+.

And then there’s Chris.

Chris is standing by the window, wearing a blue plaid shirt with some dark jeans, a puffy black vest, and chunky, tan boots. He looks as good if not better in the bright daylight than he had last night at the bar, and annoyingly, even though he tells it not to, Sebastian’s heartbeat accelerates at the sight of him. It’s then that he realizes that Chris is chatting with a pretty, dark-haired woman who has a small child perched on her hip, and immediately Sebastian wants to slap himself. Of course Chris has a beautiful wife and a minimum of two adorable kids and probably a cute dog. He was just being friendly last night, in that way small town people are. Sebastian rolls his eyes at himself for even subconsciously entertaining the thought that an invitation to a gingerbread house making contest could ever be a euphemism for anything else.

Alright. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s just going to show his face, make some small talk, do a polite round to ooh and ah over various baked goods and then he’s heading back to his hotel room and indulging in some pay-per-view. If the Inn actually has that sort of thing.

Still, when Chris turns his head and catches sight of him standing in the doorway and his face breaks out into a brilliant smile, Sebastian’s dumb, stupid heart contracts in his chest.

Oh no.

Chris bids an abrupt goodbye to the woman, and hurries over. “You came!” he says, loudly and sounding pleased.

“I did,” Sebastian confirms. His voice cracks, mortifyingly, and he clears his throat. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Chris shrugs. “I had it at about 50-50. Figured this sort of thing wasn’t really your jam. But also figured you’d have nothing else to do anyway, so might show up out of sheer boredom.”

It’s not an entirely accurate assessment, but Sebastian doesn’t correct him. “Is it your jam? This sort of thing?”

“I mean, yeah, who doesn’t love cheesy Christmas crap?” Chris grins, that unbelievably devastating smile. Then he says, “Oh!” like he’s just remembered something, holds up a finger to indicate he’ll be right back, and rushes across the room toward a massive pile of winter coats on two folding tables.

There are more folding tables, set up in rows with chairs lined along them, a few yards away. Sebastian notices he’s being watched by a group of elderly people near them. He can’t tell if any are the same ladies from last night; he didn’t get a good enough look at any of them in the dim lights of the pub. They’re talking to each other, and very obviously talking about _him_. He shifts awkwardly between his feet, and tries not to stare back.

When Chris returns, he’s holding a plastic shopping bag stuffed full so that it’s round, handles tied to enclose whatever’s inside. “Clothes,” Chris says, holding the bag out and handing it over. “I thought maybe you’d rather not keep wearing that suit for days in a row, in case you’re stuck here for a while.”

Sebastian blinks. “I… These are yours?”

“If you wanna find a store and buy stuff instead, I won’t be offended,” Chris says, with another easy shrug. Everything about him is so effortless. Sebastian has never met someone so charming who clearly puts absolutely no energy into being that way. It’s just genuinely who he is. “But then you’ll have to either take it back with you or throw it out, so this works too. I threw in a pair of jeans and a few sweaters, and some shoes that’ll be better for walking in the snow. It should all fit you, we’re about the same size. My brother has smaller feet than me, though, so if the shoes are too big you can borrow a pair from him.”

Sebastian really isn’t sure what to say. He stammers out a _thank you_ , hoping it doesn’t sound insincere because it isn’t, he just isn’t sure how to respond to all this kindness from someone he’s known for approximately sixteen hours and had exactly one conversation with.

“Drop your coat off,” Chris continues, nodding toward the coat tables, “then come join us. My sister and her kids are over at table three.”

Sebastian follows with his eyes in the direction Chris points, noticing a woman and man about their age and three kids, laughing as they try to steal candy from bowls on the table that’s meant for decoration and keep getting caught. The woman is clearly related to Chris, she looks just like him. Sebastian just nods dumbly, and does as he’s told. He shrugs out of his coat and leaves it on the pile, adding the bag Chris had given him to it as well. He can’t resist untying the knot and peeking inside. On the very top is a cream-colored cable-knit sweater. Sebastian resists the urge to bend down and smell it. He imagines how good Chris would look in it. Imagines how warm it would be, how nice it’ll feel when he puts it on later.

When he turns back, Chris has joined his family. He’s got a small girl by her ankles, holding her upside down as she giggles uncontrollably. One of the boys does manage to get a handful of M&M’s and stuff them into his mouth, and their mother admonishes him, but she’s smiling as well.

Sebastian has spent a considerable about of time around kids, given his profession, but not usually in this kind of setting. Usually, they’re nervous in conference rooms with other lawyers, or in court rooms being argued over or used as pawns. He rarely sees them happy, laughing, carefree. The smile on Chris’s face as he swings his niece around is too much for Sebastian to look at, so he pointedly doesn’t as he walks over. It’s like an eclipse. He wouldn’t survive direct eye-contact while Chris is smiling that way.

“Hey!” Chris says brightly, as Sebastian approaches. He lowers the girl toward the floor until her hands touch it, and then gently lets her go so she tumbles, still giggling, onto the carpet. “Guys, this is my new friend, Sebastian.”

He introduces the rest of them, and Sebastian shakes hands, big and small. Chris’s sister, Carly, has a knowing smile on her face as they shake that Sebastian isn’t sure what to do with.

Sebastian sits next to Chris, at the tables designated for people who are just here for fun instead of the serious competitors at their own tables across the room. It’s mostly parents and children on their side, and the tables are packed so Sebastian has to sit considerably closer to Chris than he would’ve otherwise chosen to. And he was right, on what he assumed when he’d opened the bag Chris gave him and wanted to smell the sweater. Chris does smell good.

They’re handed sheets of gingerbread and knives to shape them with, and tubes of icing to use as glue. Chris works with Sebastian, chatting cheerfully to him as they do, and Sebastian mostly grits his teeth and tries to ignore his scent and his warmth when he leans in, and how easy he is to talk to. If they’d met in New York, Sebastian would be in all kinds of trouble, developing the beginnings of a crush on a straight man. Or, maybe, he could’ve gotten over his little crush and become _friends_ with him. Sebastian doesn’t have that many friends anymore, mostly just coworkers he gets along with but rarely sees outside of office hours. He’s got Jonathan, of course, who’s probably his best friend these days, but it’s been ages since they last saw each other outside of work. So a new, non-work friend would have been nice.

When Chris gets up and moves a few feet away to help his niece attach a chimney to her house that keeps flopping over, Sebastian is almost immediately accosted by one of the older ladies he recognizes from the night before.

“We all heard about your situation, dear,” she says, sitting next to him in Chris’s empty chair and putting a grandmotherly hand on his forearm. “Such a shame about your flight.”

“Oh. Uh… Thank you,” he responds, giving her a close-mouthed smile.

“Hopefully the storm will clear up in time for you to get home for Christmas.” She looks genuinely upset at the thought that it might not, and Sebastian just nods. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her all that’s waiting for him in New York on December 25th is an empty apartment and maybe a hangover.

“Still,” she continues, “it’s lovely to see Christopher with someone, finally.”

Sebastian frowns, not understanding. “I’m sorry?”

“You know,” she says, smiling conspiratorially and patting his arm again. “Me and the girls are always saying what a shame it is that a boy as handsome as him has been alone all these years! He’s such a wonderful soul, always helping everybody out around town, like a second father to his sister’s kids, you know. But I think it’s high time he has family of his own to care for. I know Lisa and Bob would love more grandbabies – oh! Not that you boys would be able to make them by yourselves of course, I do know it works differently with…” She flaps a small, wrinkled hand, then touches it to her own cheek when she starts to blush. “Oh dear, I should probably just not say anything more, should I?” She breaks out into a giggle that is loud enough to get Chris’s attention.

“Dorothy,” Chris says, leaving his niece now that her chimney is secure and wandering back over, “are you being nice over here?”

“I am always nice,” she sniffs. “I was just telling dear Sebastian that it’s just wonderful to have him here for a little while. As I’m sure you would agree, Christopher.” The last bit is added slyly, with something that could almost pass for an old-lady version of a smirk.

A little wide-eyed, Sebastian looks up at Chris, wondering if he caught on to her insinuation and if so, if he’ll correct her. But Chris just smiles and says, “I sure would.”

Huh.

Dorothy is called away to another table a moment later, leaving Chris and Sebastian to fend for themselves once again.

“Sorry about that,” Chris says easily, sitting down next to him.

“You’re not married?” Sebastian asks, a little abruptly. He doesn’t mean to say it, but it comes out anyway.

Chris frowns at him. “No.”

“That woman you were talking to when I walked in, with the kid. That’s not your wife?”

“If she was my wife, don’t you think she’d be sitting with us?”

Sebastian, stupidly, hadn’t considered that.

Chris points. Sebastian follows with his eyes, and finds the woman he’d seen sitting a few tables over, with the child next to her and a man on the other side. “Her name’s Tara, we went to school together. She’s over there with her husband.”

“Oh.”

Sebastian feels Chris’s amused gaze on him. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” He agrees too quickly, too enthusiastically, and immediately cringes. To cover for his embarrassment, Sebastian grabs a couple of mint-green jelly candies and squishes them, rips another few in half so he can stack the pieces on top of each other to make evergreen trees. When he looks up, Chris is watching him with a glint in his eye.

“You’re an architectural genius,” he proclaims.

Sebastian snickers. “Sure, with candy, I guess.”

Chris waves a hand. “The world has enough regular architectural geniuses.”

“Hey, um,” Sebastian begins, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I wanted to say, I’m sorry if last night I implied this is a shitty place to live.”

“Implied?” Chris raises an eyebrow. “You straight up said it.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian wrinkles his nose up. “Sorry. I didn’t really mean that, I was just… frustrated, at getting stranded. But as far as places to get stranded go, this one isn’t so bad.”

“You should give that speech at our next town anniversary celebration,” Chris jokes.

Sebastian laughs.

Chris goes quiet for a moment, busying himself with pressing red licorice along the borders of the roof. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter than before. “You know, I lived in New York. For a while.”

Sebastian looks up. “You did?”

Chris nods. He waves his hand again, this time to indicate he isn’t going to elaborate much. “Long story for another time, maybe. But I get it. It’s a pretty amazing city.”

“But?”

“But this place has my family.” Chris looks at him, all that sincerity shining in his eyes again. “And all the people I’ve known since I was a kid. And a bar where people know who I am, and ask how my day was, and genuinely care about the answer. And the kind of people who’d –”

“Lend some clothes to a complete stranger because he got snowed in?” Sebastian suggests. “And invite him to a gingerbread house making contest?”

Chris smiles, and nods. “Yeah. Exactly. No one I knew in Manhattan would’ve ever done anything like that for me. And I probably wouldn’t’ve done it for them, either. I didn’t love who I turned into, when I lived there. I’d much rather live in a place where people are nice to each other, even if the trade-off is life lived at a much slower pace.”

Sebastian nods back. He gets it, in a way, but isn’t sure how to voice that without sounding placating.

A third woman, neither of the two Chris had mentioned yesterday, wins the contest. The other two look furious, and next to him, Chris is barely containing his laughter. He keeps making eye-contact with his sister and shaking his head, both looking like they’re about to explode. Sebastian has to admit, the idea of a bunch of grandmothers having a genuinely frosty decade-long rivalry about Christmas crafts is pretty funny. He can see the appeal of showing up every year just to witness the drama.

He helps with the clean-up, and outside on the stoop, with his coat back on and Chris’s bag of clothes in his hand, Chris joins him after helping his sister get her kids into their mini-van. It’s still cold, although maybe not as much as it was earlier this morning, and snowflakes are blowing around dramatically but they’re hidden from it in a little alcove just outside the doors of the community center.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?”

“I might have to have a nap, to recover from all that excitement.”

“Afternoon naps are the best, right?”

Sebastian had been kidding, but Chris looks serious, so he just nods in tacit agreement. He can’t remember the last time he had a nap. Maybe he really should. That bed at the Inn was really very comfortable, and it’s not like he has anything better to do.

“Hey, so,” Chris starts. Sebastian looks at him, and suddenly Chris looks almost nervous. “Would you, uh. Wanna go for dinner with me, tonight? My treat?”

Sebastian blinks a few times. Dinner? Does Chris mean, like, as a date? He hesitates for just long enough to apparently send the wrong message.

“You’re not into guys.” Chris winces. “Shit, sorry.”

“No,” Sebastian says quickly, his heart beating fast at the confirmation that Chris, apparently, _is_. “That’s not it.”

“Okay.” Chris’s grimace deepens. He’s somehow still handsome, even while pulling a ridiculous face, which is entirely unfair. “So you’re not into _me_ , then. Again, sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t invite you here and lend you clothes and stuff just because I was trying to get into your pants, I hope it doesn’t seem like that.”

“ _No_ ,” Sebastian says, louder. He huffs. “Will you just shut up and listen?”

Chris’s eyes widen, and he presses his lips together to indicate he indeed is going to shut up and listen.

Sebastian suppresses a laugh, because it isn’t really funny. Unsure of exactly how to word what he wants to say, he decides to bite the bullet and just blurt it out. “You just don’t really seem like the kind of person who’s into one-night stands.”

Chris’s tongue peeks out, wetting his lips. He considers Sebastian, and then nods slowly. “Okay. You’re right, I’m usually not. Are you?”

“Almost exclusively,” Sebastian answers flatly, “but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“Look, you’re very nice,” Sebastian begins.

Chris huffs a laugh. “Let me guess, it’s not me, it’s you?”

Sebastian reaches out and cuffs him on the arm. “This isn’t a speech, I mean it. You are. And generous, and thoughtful, and yeah, fine, very easy on the eyes.”

Another smirk. “But?”

“But I don’t live here, is the point. I’m stranded here for a day or two because of a snowstorm. Once that lets up, I’m gonna be 200 miles away. So if you’re not into one-night stands, what exactly would we be doing?”

“I’m not asking you to marry me, man. I’m asking you to let me take you for dinner,” Chris says, with a kind of fondly exasperated smile. A sudden gust of icy wind sends a chill up Sebastian’s spine, and he finds himself stepping in closer to Chris, and then backing up an inch when he realizes what he’d done unconsciously. Chris notices, too.

“To what end?” Sebastian asks stubbornly, to cover up for his slight misstep.

Chris bursts out laughing. “Is that lawyer speak? To the end of… having dinner! I assume you’re physically required to consume food like the rest of us.”

Reluctantly, Sebastian returns his smile. “I require regular caloric intake, yes.”

“So intake your calories at a restaurant with me. One steak. A glass of wine. Maybe a shared appetizer. If you have a miserable time, you never have to see me again. Go back to New York and put my clothes in the mail.”

The potential of having a miserable time isn’t the issue. The issue is the potential of having a fantastic time. Of learning things about Chris that endear Sebastian to him even more than he already has, of becoming attached to his laugh and his dorky sense of humor and the way his eyes sparkle. Of wanting to take Chris back to his hotel room and let Chris bend him over the TV stand. Of then having to leave a man who deserves better than to be treated the way Sebastian and his occasional dates usually treat each other in the morning, sneaking out before dawn to avoid an awkward confrontation, if sleep afterwards is even involved in the first place, which often it isn’t. It’s just been easier that way, for everyone involved. If there aren’t feelings attached to it right from the jump, no one gets theirs hurt. Sebastian has no intention of catching feelings for this man, either, mostly because it would be such a giant mess if he did.

But he is gorgeous, and charming, and almost preposterously kind. Against all his better judgement, Sebastian is lured into dangerous waters by that sweet, earnest face. So fine, if this man wants for once in his wholesome, small-town life to have casual orgasms and then never see the other person again, Sebastian is very practiced in the art of it and can certainly show him the ropes. It’s been far too long since he’s gotten laid, anyway.

“Okay.”

And really, Chris’s answering smile alone makes it worth the risk.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing.

It’s not the fact that he’s going on a date that’s stumping him – he’s been on plenty of those over the years – but the fact that he’s going on the kind of date that, as Sebastian pointed out, would normally end in one way, and one way only. And, as Sebastian had correctly guessed, he just isn’t the one-night stand type.

Still, something about Sebastian had drawn Chris in from the start, compelled him to learn more about him, and that something still hasn’t burned out yet. So while Chris isn’t sure where this evening will take him, he _is_ sure that he wants to get to know Sebastian better. In fact, he’d like to know every last thing about him; learn what makes him tick, what pisses him off, what he looks like first thing in the morning. It’s not that it’s unusual for Chris to become infatuated with someone within no time at all. Chemistry, good looks, and someone seeming like a genuinely interesting person have in the past proven to be enough to turn his head. He hasn’t been interested in anyone in a long, long while, though. Not since he moved back to Concord, almost seven years ago.

The thing is, Chris wears his heart on his sleeve. Always has. He doesn’t see the point in hiding how he feels, and even if he did, he wouldn’t know how to. Whatever he’s feeling, whether it’s sad or happy or anxious or in love, it all just spills out of him, like the emotions are too big for his body to contain. Bubbling over and mercilessly giving the game away. By extension, he’s always been a terrible liar. He gets red, he sweats, his eyes go in every direction – which is ironic, since he’s actually not a bad actor. He was an enthusiastic member of Concord’s youth theater and even entertained the idea of becoming a professional actor for a while. Moving to Hollywood and becoming rich and famous honestly didn’t sound so bad to his thirteen-year-old self. Chris loved being on stage. Getting to exaggerate feelings and real-life situations until they become something larger than life, larger than just a performance, making other people feel it, too. At the same time, however, he was also an anxious kid, and after a few occasions where he’d gotten so nervous before he went on stage that he literally threw up, he decided that maybe an acting career wasn’t for him after all.

Funnily enough, the career he actually went into also turned out not to be for him, and neither was New York. The City was no place for Chris with his big, boisterous emotions and his desire for deep, meaningful relationships. He’d gotten involved with a few people in the couple of years he lived and worked there, and each time he’d been all in from the get go, willing to give himself to the other person mind, body and soul, just like he had done throughout his teens and college. Sadly, it seemed like all any of them had been interested in was his body. Mind and soul? Not so much.

After one particularly disappointing affair, Chris had made a vow to himself to never do casual again and only give himself to someone who truly appreciates him and who he has a genuine connection with. Otherwise, what’s the point? Letting himself fall so hard each time only to crash and burn just wasn’t worth it anymore. Chris hadn’t felt that spark with anyone since he’d decided to leave New York and move back to Concord, though that might also have something to do with the fact that he seems to know literally everyone in this town and he’s not particularly interested in dating the notary’s daughter, or the mayor’s son, for that matter.

But then, last night, he’d spotted Sebastian across the room, looking all serious and slaving away over his Very Important papers, exuding city vibes and dressed in designer gear from head to toe, and suddenly – there it was. That instant attraction, the kind that Chris couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to. He’d been pulled in like a moth to a flame, eager to see if it was just as lovely up close, and he hadn’t been disappointed.

Yes, Sebastian had been a little taciturn a first, but underneath his surly demeanor and his standoffishness had been an endearing kind of vulnerability. The kind of person who could see when they did something they shouldn’t have and could apologize for it. And then when Chris had finally managed to coax a smile out of him, he was breathtaking. Sebastian was absolutely gorgeous anyway, but when he smiled, his face was transformed from classically handsome to unbearably cute in a matter of seconds. The sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones that gave him his model looks were replaced by a softness, his eyes going crinkly, his nose scrunching up, and that beautiful, soft looking mouth stretching into a smile that just knocked the wind out of Chris for a second.

The minute he saw that smile, Chris knew he needed to do everything he could to get to know this man better. Of course, he had no way to know if Sebastian was even into guys, but something about his behavior made Chris believe it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Worth a shot, in any case. So, he’d invited him to come to the community center the next morning to hang out with him some more, and was pleasantly surprised when Sebastian had said yes. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually turn up, but Chris certainly hoped he would.

And he had.

And now they were going on a date.

 _It’s just dinner_ , Chris tells himself, just like he’d told Sebastian the night before. Just a steak and some wine and hopefully good conversation. But already, Chris has found himself thinking about Sebastian all day long. And although he’s trying very hard to tell himself this doesn’t have to go anywhere, and he can just enjoy an evening out with a good-looking guy, at the back of his mind, there’s still this niggling doubt. This little voice that keeps asking him if he’s sure he’s not just reverting to his old habits and setting himself up for heartbreak again. But it’s been _so long_ since he felt something like this. There’s no way he can just ignore it.

 _Here’s hoping for the best,_ Chris thinks as he rolls his shoulders and steps through the doors of the restaurant.

He spots Sebastian immediately. A guy like that would stand out anywhere, even if he’s his outfit is a bit more low-key now than what he’d been wearing the first two times he’d seen him. Sebastian is sitting at the bar, still wearing the slacks of the suit he was wearing yesterday, but now they’re paired with one of the dark blue, soft woolen sweaters Chris had lent him. As he walks closer, Chris notices how the sweater is slightly too big on Sebastian, a little roomy around the shoulders. Of course, all that does is make Sebastian look cute. Cuter, he should say. He was already pretty darn cute to begin with.

When Sebastian sees him approaching from the corner of his eye and looks up, a thrill of misplaced possessiveness runs through Chris, tickled by the sight of Sebastian in his clothes.

“Hey.” Sebastian smiles at him and Chris’s wayward heart skips a beat.

“Hi. Have you been waiting long?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Just a few minutes. I figured I’d leave on time, what with the snow and all that.”

Chris nods, uncharacteristically unsure of what to say for a moment. He gestures towards one of the empty tables. “Shall we?”

Chris pulls out Sebastian’s chair for him and only sits down once Sebastian is properly seated.

“Are you always such a gentleman?” Sebastian asks, giving him an amused but not unkind smile.

“Well,” Chris says, “my Mom insisted on teaching us manners and the importance of being respectful and courteous towards other people. Especially women, and, you know. Dates. Of any gender.”

Sebastian gives him a curious look. “Sorry if this is none of my business, but your Mom doesn’t mind you dating guys?”

Chris snorts. “Not at all. I’m pretty sure when we we’re growing up she hoped one of us would be gay. My brother, Scott, did actually turn out to be gay, and I’m bisexual, so maybe she got a little more than she bargained for. But she’s the most supportive, tolerant Mom anyone could ever wish for.”

“Your brother’s gay?”

“Yup,” Chris confirms. “Came out when he was seventeen. He’s been dating the same guy for about three years now, they’re very happy.”

“Huh.” Sebastian looks lost in thought for a moment, then shakes himself. “That’s amazing. You must be so happy for him.”

“I am,” Chris smiles. “He’s one of my best pals.”

“So you’ve got a brother and a sister.”

“Two sisters,” Chris corrects. “Carly and Shanna.”

“Wow.” Sebastian looks somewhere between impressed and intimidated.

“What about you?” Chris asks, leaning back a bit as the waiter approaches their table to hand them both menus and take their drinks order.

“Only child,” Sebastian answers once he’s gone. “Dad left when I was young so it’s always been me and my Mom.”

He says it nonchalantly, as if the fact that his father apparently abandoned their family is no big deal and something he made peace with a long time ago. And maybe that’s true, but Chris still can’t help but feel a stab of anger at the fact that somebody would do that. And to someone like Sebastian, too. Family is the most important thing in Chris’s life, and the fact that Sebastian only had his Mom growing up makes him feel sad for the guy.

Chris clears his throat. “You must be very close, then.”

Sebastian smiles, but it’s just a little strained. “Yeah,” he says, “even though we don’t always see eye to eye.” At Chris’s quizzical look, he explains, “She thinks I work too much. She’s always going on a about how I should take a break, book a holiday, take _yoga classes_. It just never ends.”

“And do you? Work too much?”

Sebastian frowns. “No.” He sighs. “Maybe. I don’t know. What’s too much?”

“I guess that’s different for everyone,” Chris muses. “I realized I was working too much when I had to skip the holidays back home with my family just so I could get everything done. I spent one memorable Thanksgiving by myself in my little Lower East Side apartment, just stressed out of my mind trying to make a deadline, while I knew my family was back home all having dinner together and playing board games and I just…” He laughs, shaking his head. “It probably sounds immature as hell, but for me, that was the point where I really thought, what the hell am I even doing here? Y’know?”

Sebastian hums, bringing his glass of wine to his lips, but not saying anything more.

“Anyway,” Chris says, smiling ruefully. “I’m talking way too much again, aren’t I? I asked you a question and then told you all this stuff about myself that you didn’t even ask for.”

“No,” Sebastian protests, setting down his glass again. “Don’t apologize, Chris. You don’t talk too much at all.” He smiles, a soft edge to it that almost makes him look a little shy. “I like hearing you talk. You have a really nice voice.”

Smirking, Chris takes a sip from his own wine. “Do I, now?”

Sebastian just rolls his eyes. “And anyway, I was just thinking about what you said.” He bites his lip, considering it again. “I do like my job,” he says after a moment, “but I’ll admit it’s a lot, sometimes. I just wish my Mom would understand that a career takes time, you know? I’m not working so much to spite her, I’m working hard so we can live a comfortable life and don’t have to worry about money like we did when I was growing up. Once I get to a certain stage in my career I’m sure it’ll get less… intense.” He huffs a laugh. “At least, I hope.”

It seems to Chris there’s a lot more to be said about all this. He hopes he’ll get the chance to talk to Sebastian in more depth about his doubts at some point, maybe even help him a little, if he can. He went through something similar, after all. But he also doesn’t want to put a damper on the evening by just talking about work all night, so he changes the subject. Drastically.

“You know, I knew that sweater would bring out your eyes.”

Sebastian chokes on his next sip of wine. He splutters and coughs, but is saved from having to reply straight away by the waiter coming back to take their food orders.

As agreed, they both go with the steak and a shared appetizer, and when they’re alone again, Chris regards Sebastian innocently over the rim of his own glass. Sebastian glares at him.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to tell me I have a nice voice, but I can’t tell you how pretty your eyes are?”

Sebastian tries so hard to keep up his glare, but it’s no use. He crumbles like a house of cards, covering his face with a hand, trying to fight down his bashful smile.

 _Huh_ , Chris thinks, watching him. _That’s interesting._

“Oh, come on,” he goes on, spurred on by Sebastian’s reaction. “Surely people tell you that all the time. No? They’ve never told you that you’ve got beautiful eyes and your smile is breathtaking?”

“Oh, god,” Sebastian groans, almost to himself. “Shut up.”

Chris gasps, clutching his chest. “Excuse me, I’m just trying to be nice and compliment my date a little. Not my fault you can’t handle it.” He winks at him for good measure.

“Yeah, well,” Sebastian says, still squirming in his chair but no longer hiding his face now. “We can’t all be as smooth as you, mister perfect small town, uh, soft. Lumberjack.”

Chris can’t help it. He bursts out laughing, throws his head back and clutches his chest.

“Is that what you think of me?” he asks, in between giggles. “I’m a soft lumberjack?”

Sebastian grins at him now, seemingly having gotten some of his confidence back. “Well,” he says, “I’m willing to bet you chop your own firewood, am I right?”

“I do,” Chris admits. He lives on the edge of a wood and there’s literally no reason for him to buy firewood when he can just chop it himself.

“You do. And do you or do you not dress in flannel shirts and sturdy boots most of the time?”

“I – yes, I might do.”

“And do you or do you not grow a perfect beard that’s probably even softer than it looks?”

“Alright, alright, you got me there,” Chris chuckles, stroking said beard, which is really very soft.

Sebastian shrugs. “I rest my case.”

“Hmm.” Chris grins. “I can see now how you’d make a good lawyer.”

“I’m frankly wounded you ever doubted it.” 

Their food arrives, and conversation flows easily from there. So does the red wine, for that matter. By the end of dinner Sebastian’s cheeks are rosy, and his full lips stained red by the wine and the way he tends to bite at them. He’s not sure if Sebastian is even aware he’s doing it, but Chris certainly is. The more Chris drinks, the harder he finds it to look away or think of anything else than taking Sebastian’s face between his hands and kissing that pretty red mouth of his.

It’s almost a relief when they finally ask for the check, which Sebastian insists on paying (“You lent me clothes and invited me to bake cookie houses with you sister, Chris”) after which Chris insists on helping Sebastian into his coat and opening the door for him. It’s temporarily stopped snowing, and they make the short walk back towards the Inn in relative silence, their breaths forming white clouds in front of them.

Outside the front porch of the inn, they come to a halt and turn towards each other.

“Do you wanna come up? For a bit?” Sebastian asks.

Chris licks his lips, and his eyes flick down to Sebastian’s again just for a moment. Part of Chris wants to. A big part of him. So much that he almost agrees. But he doesn’t. “I don’t do one-night stands, remember?”

“Oh.” Sebastian swallows. His throat moves, and Chris follows it with his gaze before looking back up into Sebastian’s bright blue eyes. “Right. Sorry, forget I said that.”

Chris takes a step closer to him. Reaching down, he takes Sebastian’s gloved hands in his own, first his right and then his left. Sebastian blinks at him, head tilted up just slightly to make up for their miniscule difference in height. “I had a really nice time,” Chris tells him.

Sebastian nods. “Yeah. Uh, me too.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am, a bit. I guess.”

“Fair enough.” Chris licks his lips. He sees Sebastian watching it, sees his pupils expand, almost imperceptibly but enough that he notices. Taking a chance, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Sebastian nods again, quicker this time.

Chris steps in just a little closer. He leans forward, his lips only ghosting against Sebastian’s for a moment before he actually closes the distance and presses their mouths together. Sebastian inhales, hands letting go of Chris’s and going around his shoulders instead. Chris smiles into it, and feels the kiss all the way to his toes. Sparks, and electricity, and all that nonsense that isn’t supposed to be real.

Around them, the snowflakes are big and fluffy and drift dreamily down to the ground.

When they break apart, the glow from the string of Christmas lights around the doorway to the Inn is twinkling in Sebastian’s eyes. Chris can’t resist, he brings his hand up to cup Sebastian’s cheek in his woolen mitten, the thumb sliding over his cheekbone just briefly before he lets it fall away and takes a step back. It almost hurts to do so, although Chris is aware there isn’t need for frilly metaphors because it has to be barely 15 degrees out here and Sebastian is warm.

“So, tomorrow,” he begins, wincing at what a _line_ it sounds like. It really isn’t, if Sebastian never wants to see him again, Chris would respect that. He’d promised as such. He’d hate it, but he’d respect it.

Sebastian smiles. It starts out as a smirk, an amused curve of his lips, but then it just keeps going and blossoms into a full grin. “About tomorrow,” he repeats.

“It looks like you’ll probably still be here, seeing as it hasn’t stopped snowing all day long and the overnight forecast is predicting another massive dump.”

“Looks like,” Sebastian agrees with another nod.

“You got more paperwork that needs frowning over?”

A soft, musical laugh runs a thrill through Chris’s gut. “Nothing that couldn’t wait until the next day.”

“Can I call you?”

Sebastian holds his hand out. “Gimme your phone.”

Chris reaches into his pocket and hands it over. Sebastian removes his gloves, wincing a little at the sting of the cold, and enters his number into Chris’s contacts. He smiles as he hands it back.

“Tomorrow, then.”

Chris nods. He can’t resist, he leans in for one more kiss, this one pressed to Sebastian’s smooth cheek. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

Sebastian returns the sentiment, and it takes considerable effort for Chris to resist skipping all the way home.

\---

He doesn’t sleep well. He keeps being startled awake halfway through fitful dreams; a tried and true sign that he’s anxious about something. When the latest one has his eyes wide open just after 4:30, he gives up and throws the blankets off himself. A shower and two cups of coffee later, he at least feels mostly human, regardless of the lack of sleep.

It wouldn’t take a brain surgeon to work out why Chris is anxious, which is lucky, because he isn’t one and doesn’t know any, either. Would Sebastian like to go for hot cocoa at Mandie’s? She had a bunch of winter specials on the menu the last time Chris was there, peppermint and gingerbread and salted caramel. Or the winter farmers’ market? Or maybe just a walk through the snow? A peek out the window through his curtains confirms the weather forecast from last night; it snowed at least another foot. The wind doesn’t look as fierce as it did yesterday, but there’s no way the highways will be open yet in all this mess. Chris has half a mind to just go full cheesy-Christmas-movie and suggest building a snowman. But Sebastian is sophisticated, a lawyer from Manhattan with expensive shoes and meticulously styled hair. Chris can’t really imagine him being on board with that.

He sits at the island in his kitchen with a third cup of coffee, drumming his fingers on the granite counter top, skin vibrating from too much caffeine and from the anticipation of calling Sebastian. It’s only 7:30, so Chris can’t call yet. Sebastian might still be sleeping. Imagining him, cuddled up in a quilt with his knees tucked up near his chest and his chocolate-brown hair messy on the pillow, does _not_ help Chris pass the time any quicker.

To distract himself, he bundles up and tries to take Dodger for a walk, but the snow is too deep for his paws and they don’t get very far. Chris scoops him out of a snowbank and carries him back, laughing as Dodger licks his cheeks in thanks.

Finally the clock on his microwave switches to 9:00 and Chris can’t wait anymore. He pulls his phone from his pocket and finds the number Sebastian had entered into his phone last night. He taps it, hoping Sebastian isn’t the sort of person who sleeps in too late on his days off and might be annoyed that Chris woke him up.

Instead, Sebastian answers on the first ring, his voice brighter and cheerier and more eager than Chris has heard it so far.

He absolutely melts. “Hey,” he says, the words coming out breathless. “How’d you sleep?”

It’s such an intimate question, and he cringes a little, before Sebastian answers, “Great! How about you?”

“Yeah, fine,” Chris lies. He’s not going to admit that he tossed and turned all night long, and he’s _definitely_ not going to admit why. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I was about to go in search of something, unless you have a better idea?”

Chris swallows. “There’s a diner called Mandie’s, pretty close to you. Take a left out of the Inn, it’s about two blocks down on your right.”

“Meet you there in 20?” Sebastian suggests.

Chris has to press his lips together to hide his spreading grin, even though the only one here to judge him for it is his dog. “Sounds great.”

\---

Sebastian is standing in the doorway outside of Mandie’s, shielded from the icy wind, and Chris has a moment of minor internal panic when his brain can’t seem to decide on the appropriate way to greet him. Does he hug him? Kiss him? _Wave_? Sebastian solves this conundrum for him when he leans in and presses a light kiss to Chris’s cheek.

“Hi,” Chris breathes, willing his heart to not be ridiculous and just keep beating at a normal pace.

Sebastian grins, the tip of his nose red from the cold and his hands stuffed deep inside the pockets of his coat. “Hi, yourself.”

“Ready to go in?”

“Yes, please. I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Chris can’t help but smirk. “That’d be a real shame. It’s a great ass.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes at him and playfully pushes his shoulder, but Chris doesn’t miss his small, pleased smile.

“Shut up,” Sebastian says. “You haven’t even seen it.” As he turns around and pushes open the door to the diner, Chris could swear he hears him mutter, “Yet.”

They sit down a little window table with a tiny little decorated Christmas tree on it. Fairy lights are draped over the window sill and soft Christmas music is playing in the background while the smell of hot chocolate and baked goods floats through the air. Chris watches Sebastian’s reaction to all the festiveness, half expecting him to wrinkle his nose at it all, but Sebastian just shucks off his coat, revealing the white, cable-knit sweater Chris had lent to him the day before.

He looks – Oh, man. He looks excessively soft and cuddly. His hair, which was styled to perfection the evening they met, is now soft and a little ruffled, as if he’d washed it this morning but didn’t have any styling products. Which is probably true. His cheeks are still smooth shaven though, showing off the sharp cut of his jawline and the cute dimple in his chin. Chris wants to put his thumb to it.

Sebastian rubs his hands together, blowing on them to dispel the cold. On a whim, Chris reaches out and catches Sebastian’s hands in his own. His own hands are warm, they almost always are, and he rubs them together, trying to warm Sebastian up. Sebastian gives him an odd look, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” he says softly.

“No problem,” Chris replies, equally low.

Once Sebastian’s hands are warm, Chris pulls back his left hand, but keeps holding on to Sebastian’s left with his right.

“Morning, gentlemen.”

They look up in sync to see Mandie standing next to their table, wearing a Christmas apron and her auburn hair in a messy bun, notepad in hand.

“Hey, Mandie.” Chris gives her a genuine smile. “Good to see you again. How are Jasper and Anna?”

“Oh, you know,” she shrugs. “Still eight and ten years old and way more energetic than either Ben or I know how to handle. Especially now that there’s no soccer practice and no theatre class either, over the Christmas break. I’m honestly getting worried I’ll come home to find they’ve burnt the house down any day now.”

Chris gives her a sympathetic look. “Well, if you want, I can take them out for a ramble around the woods sometime soon, once this storm had calmed down. Tire them out with a snowball fight and running after Dodger, how’s that sound?”

“That would be amazing, Chris,” Mandie says, putting a small hand on Chris’s upper arm. “They adore you, you know.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual. They’re pretty amazing, Mandie. You can be proud of ‘em.”

“Oh, I am,” Mandie smiles. “I really am. But anyway, enough about me.” She darts a meaningful glance at Chris and Sebastian’s clasped hands. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your date? You’ve never brought one here before, this is all very exciting.”

Chris resists the urge to cringe. As she says it, he notices a line of patrons at the counter who are all very badly hiding how intently they’re looking over at their table. It probably _is_ exciting, he realizes. It’s a relatively sleepy little town, and Chris has been something of an object of fascination since he moved back. He’s sure his perpetually single status has been a frequent topic of conversation. “Oh, yes,” he says instead. “Sorry. Sebastian, this is Mandie, the proprietor of this fine establishment. Mandie, this is Sebastian.” He gestures his free hand between the two of them. “He’s, uh, visiting from New York.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Sebastian,” Mandie says, giving him a warm smile which Sebastian returns, albeit a little bashfully. “It’s nice to see Chris has got a special someone to spend the holidays with, this year. We’ve been waiting for this to happen for a long time, you know.”

This time, Chris does wince. “Ah, no,” he says, not wanting to overwhelm Sebastian or scare him off. “We’re just, um. We actually just met the other day. Sebastian is spending Christmas back in New York, he’s just waiting for the storm to let up so he can fly home. Right?” He looks at Sebastian expectantly.

The look Sebastian is giving him is hard to interpret, and Chris hopes he hasn’t accidentally said anything stupid.

“Right,” Sebastian says belatedly. “Yeah, I kind of got a little stranded in Concord. It’s been… surprisingly not bad, actually. Nice, even.”

Chris gives him a teasing smirk. “Sebastian is used to sophisticated city folk, you know. He expected us all to be a little backwards.” 

Sebastian splutters indignantly. “I did not think that,” he says, cheeks adorably flushed. “Well, except for when I saw your face, obviously.”

“Rude,” Chris says, pulling an outraged face. 

Sebastian hums doubtfully. “Is it rude if it’s true?”

He looks so cute in that moment, with his nose scrunched up in thought and his head cocked to the side. Chris just can’t help it; he leans across the table and presses a quick kiss to Sebastian’s cheek.

“What was that for?” Sebastian asks, a little flustered.

Chris just shrugs. “For bein’ cute.”

“Thanks?” Sebastian says, squeezing his eyes shut. “Um. I feel like maybe we should order? I’m sure we’ve kept Mandie waiting long enough.”

Right, Mandie. Chris had kind of forgotten she was there to be honest, but when he looks up at her, she’s just watching them both with the biggest grin on her face.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I’ve got all the time in the world,” she sing-songs. “As you can see, it’s not exactly busy this morning, what with normal people preferring to stay in when there’s a storm on.”

Chris chuckles. “Ah, but where’s their sense of adventure?” He turns back to Sebastian. “What would you like to eat? Mandie does killer waffles and her grilled cheese is to die for.”

They order their food and drinks, black filter coffee for Chris and a double espresso for Sebastian, and Chris makes Sebastian promise he’ll try one of Mandie’s hot chocolate specials after.

“We could get it to go,” Chris suggests. “It’s not snowing as hard now, we could go for a walk?”

“Sure,” Sebastian agrees. “It’d be good to get some fresh air, and I’ve got your shoes now.”

“Oh yeah, do they fit?”

Sebastian nods. “If I wear two pairs of socks, yes.”

“That’s probably a good idea anyway, with these temperatures.”

A slightly awkward silence falls then, for the first time since they met.

“We could –” Chris starts, then hesitates and falls silent.

“What?” Sebastian asks, curious.

“Well, if you’re not busy, we could… There’s this winter market on the way to my house that does like, arts and crafts stuff but it also has food stalls. So I was thinking, maybe we could, I don’t know, have a look around there and grab some stuff for dinner and then go to mine, and I could cook? For you? It’s fine if you’d rather just have dinner at the inn or something of course, just. If you wanted to.”

Wow. Smooth, Evans. Real smooth.

“Oh,” Sebastian says. “Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, I guess. Why not?”

“Yeah?” Chris asks, aware that he sounds a bit overly hopeful.

“Sure, yeah.” Sebastian is smiling now, and Chris’s stomach flops in the best way.

Mandie brings them their food, and they spend the next forty-five minutes or so stuffing their faces and trading stories about growing up in Concord and New York City respectively. Chris regales him with anecdotes about the mischief he got up to with his siblings growing up, and about all the different dogs his family had had.

“I got Dodger just for me, though,” Chris says, sitting back once he’s finished the last of his waffles. “I saw him one day in the shelter and I just knew I had t’have him. He’s the best boy of them all.”

“You have a dog?”

“Yeah,” Chris says, “you’ll get to meet him later. Wait, you’re not allergic, are you?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I never had any pets, but I like dogs. I think. Don’t really have all that much experience with them.”

“Don’t worry.” Chris gives him a reassuring smile. “You’ll love Dodger. He’s like a big puppy.”

“A bit like you, then,” Sebastian jokes, and Chris laughs.

“Yeah, a bit like me. Lots of people say that.”

Sebastian tells him about the apartment his Mom and he lived in for the better part of his youth, which had been cramped and in a shifty area. How it only made Sebastian more determined to be top of his class and work as hard as possible to get them both out of there and somewhere nicer, eventually. Somewhere his <om wouldn’t be afraid to walk home after dark, and where he wouldn’t have to listen to his neighbors fighting at all hours while he was trying to prepare for his exams. And he had. To Chris’s ears, it just sounds like it had come at other costs.

Chris knows Sebastian isn’t telling him this to get Chris to feel sorry for him, but he does nonetheless. Sebastian’s childhood sounds nothing like his own, apart from having a Mom who loved him, and although he knows happiness doesn’t come in the same shape or size for everyone, he can’t help but feel Sebastian’s childhood wasn’t particularly happy. It makes something protective inside of him flare to life, makes him want to pull Sebastian close and never let anything bad happen to him. It makes him want to ask Sebastian to come and spend Christmas with the Evanses, sing carols and play board games and eat their body weight in cranberry pie. It makes him want to take Sebastian’s hand and show him there’s more to Christmastime than frantic, last-minute shopping at Macy’s and fancy but soulless cocktail parties surrounded by people you can’t actually stand.

And so, once they’ve settled the bill and each have a hot cocoa to go, that’s exactly what he does.

\---

“Christmas music and everything, huh?” Sebastian asks.

He’s seated on Chris’s plush white sofa, a glass of wine in his hand and Chris’s cream-colored sweater a gorgeous contrast to his lightly tanned skin.

“Gotta set the mood,” Chris answers, with a wink.

“I had fun today.” Sebastian licks his lips, as Chris joins him on the couch. He doesn’t sit too close, although he wants to. The pull is getting stronger – that gravitational force he’s felt between them since the moment they met. But then, he tries to remind himself that they met less than 48 hours ago, and he’s remained single for all this time because he wants a deeper connection, not casual sex with someone he just met. And Sebastian can’t stay forever. It’s all very complicated, but none of those pesky realities do a damn thing to lessen the pull he feels to the man on his couch, in his sweater, drinking his wine, fitting so disastrously well into Chris’s life.

“Me too,” Chris replies, after a pause and with a nod. They had gone to the market, and they had walked holding hands in the snow, and Sebastian had let Chris kiss him in front of the Christmas tree by City Hall. It was all very much a scene out of a cheesy Lifetime Channel movie and Chris shouldn’t have left himself get as caught up in it as he did.

“And dinner was great.” Sebastian smiles at him. “Thank you.”

Chris nods again. He isn’t the best cook in the world but he has a few tried and true recipes that he knows well enough to impress people with, especially if they, unlike his family, haven’t been fed those same few recipes over and over for years. Although to his Mom’s credit, she always makes a big deal over it when he cooks for them as if the recipe is brand new.

Outside Chris’s refurbished farmhouse, the wind howls. It’s picked up considerably, since this afternoon, so while it isn’t snowing anymore, the existing snow is blowing around so much the highway remains closed. The temperature has plummeted as well. But Chris has a fire going, and plenty of blankets, and Sebastian’s crinkly-eyed smile to keep him warm.

He thinks it, and then wants to roll his eyes at himself for the thought. Cheesier than a mountain of nachos. He’s in real trouble, this time.

“So, what’s Christmas Day like?” Sebastian enquires. He sips at his wine, the dark burgundy liquid staining his lips like it had last night and making them look even more kissable than they naturally do.

“We all head to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve. It isn’t fancy but it’s big enough for all of us, my sisters and their partners and kids and Scott and his boyfriend. We all stay over, get up whenever the kids decide in the morning, which is usually the ass-crack of dawn. Go into the living room where the tree is, in our PJs. Open presents.”

Sebastian is nodding. There’s a slightly faraway, dreamy look in his bright blue eyes, like he’s imagining it.

“It’s very loud.” Chris grins, remembering last year. “And a little chaotic. But lots of fun.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Things like that are always more fun with kids around,” Chris continues. “So I’m happy Carly has a few, since I don’t, yet.”

“You want kids?”

“Yeah.” Chris shrugs. “Not, like. Next week. But some day.”

Sebastian licks his lips again.

“You?”

“I’m not sure. Never really gave it all that much thought, to be honest.”

“That’s fair.”

Sebastian drains the last sip of wine from his glass and sets it down on the coffee table. Dodger looks up at the noise, and then sighs and plops his head back down onto the rug near Chris’s feet. Looking out the window into the darkness, Sebastian wrinkles up his nose. “I should get back, before it gets too bad out there.”

Chris wants to ask him to stay. He doesn’t. Instead he nods, and gets up. “I can drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s below zero and blowing like crazy, and it’s pitch black out.” Chris waves his hand, waving off Sebastian’s protest. “I’m not making you walk back into town.”

Sebastian doesn’t argue. He follows Chris to the door, taking his coat from the front hall closet and pulling it on over Chris’s sweater. Chris grabs his keys, and when he turns back, Sebastian is standing close to him, and the rest of Chris’s resolve just shatters.

He drops his keys to the floor and steps in, grabbing Sebastian around the waist and drawing him into a heated kiss that quickly deepens and Sebastian parts his lips and takes Chris’s cheeks in his hands. Sebastian hums between them, a quiet, desperate sound that vibrates through Chris’s chest, and Chris feels hungry, out of control, as he backs Sebastian up against the door and slides his tongue into Sebastian’s mouth. Sebastian’s hands are in his hair, his scent is in Chris’s nose, his thigh is pressing between Chris’s legs and it’s all dizzying. It’s been so long, so _damn_ long since Chris has been kissed like this. He’d almost forgotten it, forgotten how warm and nice it is, how it sends shivers down his spine, how it makes him ache for more the moment it’s started.

“Chris,” Sebastian slurs against his mouth, and it feels like moving a mountain but Chris manages to stop, to exhale heavily and tilt his chin down, resting his forehead against Sebastian’s.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“No.” Sebastian shakes his head. “No, that’s not… look, I… I want you, too, alright? God, you’re so gorgeous and sweet and sexy even though you aren’t trying to be, it’s been driving me crazy. I barely slept last night.”

“Fuck.” Chris exhales again, and it’s shaky this time. “Me neither.”

“But it’s… I mean, a two-night stand isn’t really all that different than one, is it?” Sebastian reasons, sounding regretful. “You said this isn’t what you wanted.”

“I want you,” Chris breathes. He’s buzzing underneath his skin, arousal spinning in his cloudy mind. “The rest of it is… I don’t know. I don’t know about tomorrow. I only know about right now.”

Sebastian’s thumb moves through his beard, stroking gently. He kisses Chris again, but softer. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I won’t,” Chris promises. There are so many unknowns, but that isn’t one of them. Even if Sebastian leaves tomorrow and Chris never sees him again, he won’t regret it.

Another kiss, this one slow and deep and thorough and it leaves Chris’s knees weak. He slides his hands up under his own sweater on Sebastian’s back, fingertips finding warm skin that he wants to taste on his tongue. Sebastian’s mouth is sweet against his, the insides of his cheeks wine-flavored and soft. Against his hip, Chris can feel Sebastian’s arousal, growing and pressing into the fly of the jeans Chris lent him. Suddenly Chris can’t think straight, can’t comprehend anything beyond how much he wants this man, wants to drag him to the bedroom and fall with Sebastian into his bed and never let him leave.

Instead, Chris pulls Sebastian by the waist, leading him back to the couch. He sits, tugging Sebastian by the sweater, urging Sebastian to sit back down next to him but instead, Sebastian straddles him and climbs into Chris’s lap, settling onto his thighs. His blue eyes are wide, pupils blown. Red lips parted and shiny, and Chris runs the pad of his thumb along the bottom one. Sebastian’s tongue peeks out to lick it. Chris cups his cheek and guides him back down into another bruising kiss. Chris needs everything to speed up, but at the same time wants to slow it all down so it can last forever. Especially since in reality, it won’t.

He reaches up when their lips fall apart so they can gasp for air, trailing his fingers down Sebastian’s cheek. It’s just a little rougher than it probably was this morning, stubble emerging since it’s been at least twelve hours since he shaved. Chris wants to rub himself against that sandpapery skin, let it leave scratches and redness behind in its wake. Sebastian hums into their kiss again, and surges forward, rolling his hips slowly against Chris and Chris could die happy in this moment with Sebastian in his lap, the hardness in his jeans pressing against his stomach.

With his other hand, he trails his fingers around, briefly squeezing Sebastian’s hip as he passes it, and letting them ghost feather-light over the fly of Sebastian’s pants. “Can I?” he whispers, leaning back from the kiss enough to blink up at Sebastian with heavy-lidded eyes – praying to whoever or whatever might be listening that he’ll be given permission but still needing confirmation before he proceeds.

Sebastian’s breath hitches beautifully as Chris’s fingers touch him through the denim. He nods, teeth worrying his bottom lip between them. Chris can’t help himself, he nudges Sebastian’s face down so he can suck that warm, plump lip into his mouth. As he does, he pops the button and unzips the fly on the jeans he lent Sebastian, slowly sliding his hand into them.

Like everything else, it’s been such a disastrously long time since Chris has touched anyone other than himself. He’s very used to the feel and weight of his own cock in his hand, because he’s the only one who’s touched it in years and he’d go crazy if he didn’t show himself a good time now and then. Sebastian’s feels similar, but at the same time different, as Chris curls his fingers around solid heat and strokes slowly. It’s a little shorter than his own, but a little bigger around, and his skin is soft and warm and Chris is reeling just from this small amount of contact. If he isn’t careful he could lose it in his own pants just from touching Sebastian, and he’d never live that down if anyone else found out.

Above him, Sebastian’s breath catches. His exhale trembles, and he laughs softly against Chris’s lips as his hips pump forward, wordlessly urging Chris on. “Feels good,” he mumbles. His voice sounds wrecked already and Chris can certainly relate. He’s nearly painfully hard himself, leaking into his boxers so much he’ll be embarrassed if Sebastian notices.

“Yeah?” he answers, wanting more, wanting to touch Sebastian until he shakes, wanting his smooth, velvet voice to carry on about how it feels.

“Mhm.” Sebastian briefly dips his tongue into Chris’s mouth, and then drops his head down to rest on Chris’s shoulder so he can mouth at Chris’s neck as Chris strokes him.

After only a moment Chris can’t stand not kissing him any longer. He hooks the fingers of his free hand into the neck of his own sweater, tugging, and a quiet crack rings out as the fibers burst and rip.

Sebastian does lift his head, but with a wince. “Shit, your sweater.”

Chris shakes his head, and crushes his lips back into Sebastian’s. “Don’t care.” It’s an old sweater, anyway. And even if it weren’t, he’s so aroused and needy in this moment that he wouldn’t mind tearing a brand new, expensive sweater right in half, if it meant getting to kiss those perfect lips for just a moment longer.


	3. Chapter 3

Sebastian wakes up because he’s hot. He’s so incredibly hot and he feels like he’s being suffocated by his duvet. He tries to shift, wanting to get his limbs out from under the covers, and – oh. It’s not his duvet. He’s being aggressively spooned by a large, very hot man. Chris has his strong arms wrapped around him, holding him to his chest like he might a teddy bear, their legs tangled and his nose buried in the nape of Sebastian’s neck. He’s breathing softly against his skin, deep and even, and if Sebastian weren’t so hot or hadn’t had to pee so badly, it would’ve been… very nice.

Sebastian can’t remember the last time he woke up next to someone else. Can’t remember the last time he was held like this. He’s never been held quite like this, to be honest. Like he’s wanted; needed, even. The last few times he was in bed with someone else, it was for a quick fuck, after which either party left basically as soon as they’d gotten their rocks off. Chris and he… they hadn’t even had sex, and yet the whole situation had felt so much more intimate than anything Sebastian can recall having experienced lately. They’d exchanged heated handjobs on Chris’s sofa, which had ended with Sebastian sprawled on top of Chris when they’d collapsed right after, until the stickiness became too uncomfortable to ignore and they’d both taken a shower, Sebastian first, then Chris.

Chris had lent him some spare pajamas, soft and a little threadbare in the best way, and they’d curled up in Chris’s big, comfy bed together. Chris had been so sweet. They had made out like teenagers for the longest time. It wasn’t even going anywhere, they were just kissing for the sake of kissing, just because it felt nice, and eventually had fallen asleep all tangled up in each other.

Now, the morning light is streaming in through a crack in the curtains, but Sebastian has no idea what time it is. He manages to get one arm out from under Chris’s massive bicep and gropes around the bedside table until his fingers curl around his watch.

10.17am.

Wow. He hasn’t slept in this late since… probably that time when he had the flu, three years ago?

He tries to sit up, but there’s no way that’s happening until he manages to make Chris loosen his grip considerably. Wriggling, he tries to slide out from under Chris’s arm without waking him. All that does is make Chris hold onto him even tighter.

“Chris,” he whispers, before repeating it a little louder when Chris doesn’t stir.

“Huh?” Chris head shoots up. “What’s wrong?”

Sebastian laughs softly. “Nothing’s wrong, I just have to pee.”

“Oh,” Chris says. And then, “ _Oh_ ,” as he realizes that he’s wrapped around Sebastian like a koala bear.

He quickly unwraps himself, and even though Sebastian had been trying so hard to break free, he suddenly feels strangely bereft. Shaking off the irrational feeling, he slips out of bed and heads to the bathroom on bare feet. He almost trips over Dodger, who’s lying on a blanket at the foot of the bed, a lazy thump of his tail the only thing indicating he’s noticed Sebastian’s presence at all. In the bathroom, Sebastian checks his phone, looking up the weather forecast, which tells him there’s still no way he’s getting back to New York today. The relief he feels is something he consciously doesn’t examine too closely. There’s also a slew of new work emails that he somehow really doesn’t want to face right now, so he promises himself he’ll have a look at them at some point before he heads back, on the way to the airport or on the plane.

When he walks back into the bedroom, Chris is sitting upright in the middle of the bed. Even though he’d gone to sleep wearing PJs too, he must’ve taking off his top at some point during the night, because he’s now bare chested, rubbing his eyes with the back of his fingers and looking adorably sleepy. Not a morning person, then. Even though the actual morning is half over already.

As he takes him in, Sebastian swallows. Chris is stupidly gorgeous. His skin is creamy pale, his broad, muscled chest dusted with dark hair that Sebastian wants to run his fingers through. He notices now that Chris has several tattoos on his torso. From where he’s standing, he can see a Taurus sign on his left shoulder, a hint of something more elaborate on his right side, and a long quote on his clavicle.

He walks back over to the bed, climbing in and sitting down cross-legged in front of Chris. Chris looks up at him, a little bleary-eyed but no less beautiful. And then he smiles, slow and sweet, and Sebastian’s breath catches in his throat. For a moment, he’s spellbound, can’t look away from Chris’s gaze which contains all kinds of emotions that he’s not sure Chris is aware he’s letting him see. Not quite knowing how to handle all that, Sebastian averts his eyes, reaching out a hand and tracing his fingers over the tattoo on Chris’s collarbone.

“Tell me about your tattoos?”

Chris does. He tells Sebastian about the various symbols for loyalty and family he has inked on his body. The tribute to an old friend who passed away when he was younger. The Eckhart Tolle quote on his clavicle that helps to keep him grounded and centered. Had it been any other guy, Sebastian probably would’ve inwardly scoffed at a tattoo of his mother’s star sign, but on Chris, it’s just endearing. The tattoos suit him, and Sebastian tells him as much.

Chris smiles at him again. “Do you have any tattoos?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Nope. Never really connected with anything so much I wanted it etched permanently into my skin, I guess.”

Chris hums. “You’ll know it when you find it. And if you never do, that’s fine, too.”

Suddenly, Chris’s stomach interrupts their quiet conversation with an unholy growling noise that makes them both burst out laughing.

“How about some breakfast?” Chris suggests, amused.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

Sebastian normally doesn’t really do breakfast, just grabs a coffee from that overpriced shop on the corner of his street before he heads into work and then has lunch early, if he remembers to eat at all. But it’s nice, having breakfast with Chris. His kitchen has the same homey feel to it as the rest of his house, with cream white shaker cabinets and jars of different things lined up on the counter. It’s a little messy, but still clean. Nothing like Sebastian’s own spotless kitchen with its chrome appliances and fancy coffee maker he doesn’t actually know how to operate. They make pancakes and Chris offers him yoghurt and granola too. He brews a big pot of filter coffee that reminds Sebastian of how his mother used to make it whenever they had guests over.

Dodger lies at their feet and surprisingly doesn’t beg. Chris trained him well, it seems.

“How long have you had him?” Sebastian asks, leaning down to scratch Dodger behind the ear and getting a lick on the wrist in return.

“About two years now,” Chris answers. “He was brought into the shelter as a pup, and I couldn’t understand how anyone could have wanted to get rid of him. He was just the sweetest boy, all barely contained enthusiasm and affection, and I just couldn’t leave him there. I know I can’t save ‘em all, even though I’d love to, but I was sold on Dodger as soon as I laid eyes on him. But anyway, that’s why I work at the shelter. I can’t take them all home, but I can make a home for them at the shelter instead, for as long as they’re there.”

“You work at a dog shelter?” Sebastian asks, surprised. Realizing that that may have come out condescending, he quickly adds, “Nothing wrong with that of course, I just. I mean, this isn’t exactly a small house.” He groans, putting a hand over his eyes. “Wow, sorry. That was impertinent as fuck. Ignore me, please.”

“It’s fine, Seb,” Chris chuckles. Nobody’s called him that since college, Sebastian thinks. He finds he likes hearing it again. Chris picks up his coffee mug and turns it between his big palms. “Remember how I told you I used to live in New York, too?”

Sebastian nods. He does remember, but every time Chris had brought it up, he’d waited for him to elaborate, and then he just hadn’t. So he’d figured he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Well,” Chris continues, “I was actually a Wall Street trader for a while. Pretty successful one, too, although I still feel like it was more luck than skill.” He huffs a laugh. “I got an internship through my uncle, who’s a pretty big deal in that world, and I rose through the ranks pretty quickly. Too quickly, I think. I constantly felt like I was just fooling people, tricking them into thinking I knew what I was doing, and that the results I was getting were just coincidence. Looking back now, I can see that I probably actually was good at my job, but at the time I started to feel increasingly like an imposter, and I got paranoid about whether people were just fraternizing with me because of the money I could potentially make them, or because they genuinely liked me.” He huffs a laugh, and there’s still a trace of bitterness in it. “Got burned one too many times, both in a professional and personal context, and in the end I had a bit of a breakdown and decided I needed to leave that world behind or I’d go insane.”

He looks up, meeting Sebastian’s eyes and seeming a little self-conscious suddenly. “But yeah, uh. Like I said, I got lucky. I left at the right time, and so I was able to buy this house when I moved back, did it up myself with some help from friends and family. And I don’t need much, living by myself, you know? Hence the job at the shelter.” 

Sebastian tries picturing Chris in the chaos and ruthlessness of Wall Street, but it just won’t gel for him. He feels strangely thankful for the fact that Chris managed to get out when he did; returned to his roots and built this beautiful home for himself, surrounded by his close friends and family who all adore him. He’s happy for Chris, but at the same time, he feels a pang of something unpleasant as well. Loneliness, maybe? Or missing something, something he’s never even known. Sebastian knows he doesn’t have anything to complain about, and there are so many people who would kill for the things he has, but compared to Chris’s life, his own suddenly feels strangely… empty.

He clears his throat to get rid of the uncomfortable lump that’s formed there. “Well, seems like you made the right choice, coming back here.” He gives Chris a genuine smile. “Especially if you weren’t happy in New York.”

“Yeah,” Chris nods. “I don’t think I ever want to live anywhere else again.” He stands then, stretching his arms above his head and revealing a tantalizing strip of bare skin above the waistband of his pajama pants. Sebastian saw Chris shirtless just an hour or so ago, but there’s something a little illicit about that little glimpse of abdomen that makes him feel flustered. God, it’s like Chris is bringing out the teenager in him again.

“Right,” Chris says. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. There anything in particular you wanna do today?”

Sebastian thinks for a moment, but comes up blank. He doesn’t normally do a lot outside of working, doesn’t have any hobbies to speak of, so he’s honestly a little stumped faced with this much free time. But he doesn’t want to cramp Chris’s style and just confiscate all his time, either. Especially since Chris would probably be too nice to tell him if he was sick of him.

“Not really?” he says truthfully. “But I’m sure I can find something to do. I can look at my emails or watch a movie in my hotel room or whatever. It’s fine.”

Chris’s face falls. “Oh,” he says. “I thought – No, yeah, of course.” He gives Sebastian bright smile that doesn’t quite feel genuine. “I’ve just been dragging you around for the past day or so, I’m sure you need some time alone after all that. I know I can be a little much sometimes,” he adds, looking unhappy all of a sudden.

“No, Chris,” Sebastian says, getting up from his chair to stand in front of him, putting his hands on Chris’s biceps. “You’re not too much of anything. In fact, I’d say you’re exactly the right amount of everything.”

He meant it to come out teasingly, to coax a smirk out of Chris, but the way Chris looks at him then is anything but playful. It’s open and vulnerable, grateful, almost, and Sebastian’s heart skips several beats in his chest.

They stand there for a moment, just looking at each other, and then Sebastian coughs. “So, uh. What I was trying to say is that I really don’t need to be alone or anything, and if you’re not sick of me yet, I’m happy to hang out with you some more today.”

A slow, beaming smile spreads over Chris’s handsome features. “Yeah?” He leans in, capturing Sebastian’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss that tastes of coffee and maple syrup. When he breaks away, he says, “In that case, how would you like to go play with some puppies?”

\---

The shelter looks more or less exactly how Sebastian was imagining. It’s a small, one-storey building, unassuming from the outside, a little shabby on the inside, but full of bright colored paint and quirky cat and dog art on the walls and cheerful staff members who all positively light up when Chris walks in the door. It’s getting ridiculous, Sebastian thinks, how universally loved Chris is in this town. Everywhere they go, people are happy to see him. He’s far too good to be true. Sebastian hasn’t found the glaring flaw yet but there has to be one, it’s impossible for someone to be this perfect in real life.

Sebastian sneezes as they stand at the front desk, Chris chatting happily with the young receptionist. Chris looks over at him, and Sebastian covers his face and sneezes twice more. “Cats?” he asks, his voice already scratchy.

“Oh god, so many,” Chris says with a laugh. “Allergies?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian nods.

“Shit, okay, let’s go to the wing where the dogs are. It should be relatively free of cat hair.”

They politely bid farewell to the receptionist and Sebastian follows him away from the desk, glancing back and not missing the dreamy way the girl is staring at Chris as they walk away. Well, he can’t exactly blame her.

Chris opens a locked door with a key-card, and holds it open for Sebastian. The wing is lined with cages, but they aren’t cages like anything Sebastian’s ever seen. Not that he’s spent a lot of time in animal shelters, but he has images in his head of metal chain-link and cold concrete floors and fluorescent lighting. These cages are more like rooms – like pet apartments. The walls separating them are drywall with glass doors so they can see out into the room. Inside each is an armchair, some of them a bit worn like they were donated used by townspeople, which Sebastian realizes they probably were. There are soft-looking blankets, and toys, and several of the dogs are housed with another, so they aren’t lonely.

“We try to have roommates, if we can,” Chris explains, before Sebastian can even ask. “It doesn’t always work, some dogs don’t get along with other dogs that well. But it always breaks my heart to think of them in such a tiny space all alone. Dogs are such social animals, they get so sad if they’re lonely for too long. And the ones who have to be alone, we try to play with and cuddle as much as we can.”

Slowly, Sebastian exhales, and struggles to keep a straight face when suddenly all he wants to do is burst into tears. He’s never been much of an animal lover – he doesn’t dislike them on principle but just isn’t drawn to them the way some people are – but the idea of any of these sweet little souls feeling lonely hits him sideways and makes him want to adopt three or four of them on the spot. His apartment building doesn’t allow pets, so he couldn’t, even if it weren’t a ridiculous idea for a dozen other reasons.

“Wanna meet my current favorite?” Chris asks.

Sebastian nods, and follows him to a room near the end of the wing. A chocolate lab with greying fur around its mouth gets up off a pile of blankets when it sees Chris, and limps over, tail wagging.

“Hey, beautiful,” Chris says in the gentlest voice, as he opens the door and greets the dog. Looking back at Sebastian, he says, “this is Daisy. She’s a bit older, as you can probably tell.”

Sebastian crouches down. He doesn’t get right onto the floor, wanting to keep the khakis Chris had lent him clean. He holds his hand out, and she comes over to him, sniffing his palm and then nudging it, asking to be pet. He scratches behind her ears with both hands, smiling as she licks his cheek. “Hi, Daisy. He’s right, you’re gorgeous.”

He looks up when Chris sniffs, and finds his eyes shiny.

Sebastian frowns. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Chris laughs himself. He sits fully on the ground, crossing his legs in front of him, so Sebastian figures it’s alright and does the same. “Her owner is an elderly woman who’s in the hospital right now. Didn’t have any family to take her in the meantime, so I said we would. It was supposed to just be a week, but then there were complications and it’s been a month. Makes me sad to think we can’t explain to a dog that she hasn’t been abandoned, you know? She’ll get to go back home eventually, but she doesn’t know that.”

“That sucks.” He gets another lick to his cheek, and then Daisy gingerly turns around so she can plop herself into Sebastian’s lap.

“Told myself I’d give it until the new year, and if her owner isn’t home yet, I’ll take Daisy to my place until she is.”

“You should.”

Chris presses his lips together, and then smiles tentatively. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. She needs you.”

“Maybe I will,” Chris replies, but Sebastian can see in his eyes that there’s no maybe about it. Chris just made up his mind. The look on his face as he watches Sebastian petting Daisy tugs at Sebastian’s heartstrings in a way that’s completely foreign to him.

\---

Chris’s lips are soft, kissing Sebastian lazily. They’re back on Chris’s couch, a fire roaring in the fireplace, romantic Christmas music playing through the speakers hanging from the walls in the corner. His hand cups Sebastian’s cheek, thumb moving slowly in an arc across his cheek. It’s warm and feels familiar, as if they’ve known each other for years. Chris’s tongue swirls around his, slow and delicious, wrapping Sebastian’s entire body in heat and the slow-burn of arousal, like sinking into a bubbling jacuzzi after a long day. Every bit of tension melts from his frame, leaving behind nothing but a gentle, glowing haze. Sebastian feels lost in it, but not the scary kind of lost. The kind where he’s floating aimlessly in space but feels so completely safe. Like the most pleasant kind of early morning dream on a rare day off when his alarm isn’t threatening to sound at any moment.

“Are you hungry?” Chris asks, pausing their kiss just long enough to ask but then diving back in before Sebastian can answer.

Sebastian hums out a not-committal, “Mmhm,” but then makes no effort to move, and Chris doesn’t either.

He’s never been kissed like this. It’s always been a prelude to something else, and it might be this time as well, but it also might not, because that isn’t the point of it. It isn’t transactional, like dues that have to be paid before the main event is allowed to happen. Chris kisses like he’d be perfectly happy doing just this for hours, just drowning himself in it, because it feels good, and he wouldn’t mind at all if nothing else came of it.

Sebastian drags his fingers into Chris’s hair, squeezing gently at the dark brown strands, angling Chris’s head to the right so he can deepen the slide of their lips. In response, Chris nudges him back. With a hand on Sebastian’s lower back, supporting him, Chris lays him down onto the plush couch cushions, and hovers over him for just a moment. There’s too much emotion shining in his eyes, it fills Sebastian to the brim but also scares him just a little, although sort of in a good way. It’s confusing, and he doesn’t have the headspace to work it all out just now, so he slides his hands up Chris’s biceps and urges him down. Chris blankets him, draping his big body on top of Sebastian’s, heavy on top of him as he dips down for another kiss.

In this position Sebastian can feel him, hard between his legs, pressing into Sebastian’s thigh. He pushes his leg up against it and cups Chris’s ass with his hands, encouraging him to rock down against him. Chris does, with a low moan as he finds pressure and friction against Sebastian’s leg.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Sebastian whispers, overwhelmed by it, as Chris drops his face down in between Sebastian’s ear and his shoulder and starts mouthing messily at his neck.

“I like…” Chris groans again, the most beautiful noise right in Sebastian’s ear, “just. Touching. Like this. It feels good.”

“I want you to feel good.”

Chris grinds against him for another minute and Sebastian’s head is spinning, Chris’s hip pressing insistently into his own cock, straining inside the pair of underwear he’d borrowed from Chris. It’s so perfect, and Sebastian could definitely come just like this, just rutting into each other and using each other’s bodies to chase after their own pleasure. He definitely doesn’t hate the idea of messing up Chris’s boxers. There’d be something possessive about it. Sebastian has never been possessive before. He’s never had anything he wants to claim for just himself, so no one else can ever touch it again in quite the same way. Now, though. Now he does.

“I… um.” Chris lifts his head. He’s bleary-eyed, turned-on and a little bit wrecked already, and God, Sebastian wants to strip him naked and lick him absolutely everywhere. Taste every single inch of that pale, creamy skin. Find every sensitive spot, every place that’s ticklish, every place where his lips and tongue would have Chris moaning or squeezing handfuls of his hair, cock leaking in anticipation against his stomach.

But there’s something else, too, in Chris’s eyes. Something Sebastian only sees for half a second, before Chris tries to unsuccessfully hide it behind a smile and a quick shake of his head.

Sebastian frowns up at him, in question, but Chris says, “Never mind,” and kisses him again.

Sebastian wants to ask. Wants to push, to make Chris tell him, but he doesn’t. Maybe he’s a coward. Or maybe it’s just self-preservation. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He doesn’t want Chris to say something that might change things in a way they couldn’t reverse.

“Take me to bed?” he asks quietly instead.

Chris exhales. He presses just one more kiss to Sebastian’s lips, and then gets up off him, offering a hand down to pull Sebastian to his feet. Chris reaches behind himself to grab the back of his sweater and tugs it off, revealing his chest and his arms and his tattoos, and the slight change in the mood dissipates, leaving Sebastian back to woozy with want. He pulls off his own sweater – _Chris’s_ sweater – and Chris drags him in by the waist, bare skin pressed together as he opens his mouth against Sebastian’s for another dizzying kiss.

Before Sebastian can push Chris backwards toward his bedroom, Chris’s hands are sliding down the backs of Sebastian’s thighs and scooping him up, as if he weighs nothing at all. Sebastian makes a noise of surprise into Chris’s mouth, wrapping his arms around Chris’s neck and his legs around Chris’s waist out of instinct. He’s never been lifted up before, and he’s barely an inch shorter than Chris. The idea of that much strength, that Chris could theoretically throw him around a little if he wanted or hold Sebastian down and fuck him rough the way Sebastian likes it sometimes and not let him up, has his dick twitching and wet in his pants and Sebastian moans around Chris’s tongue, barely resisting the urge to hump against Chris’s stomach as Chris carries him easily toward the bedroom.

Chris drops him onto the bed. Sebastian bounces a little, both physically on his back and metaphorically knocked over at the heat and intensity he finds in Chris’s eyes before Chris leans down and hastily undoes the fly on the pants Sebastian is wearing, grabbing them by their bottoms and tugging them off. Sebastian’s boxers go next, Chris tugging those off too like he’s too impatient to even let Sebastian blink before he’s completely bare.

They haven’t seen each other fully naked yet, and for the first time since he was a teenage virgin Sebastian finds himself insecure, cheeks flushing and fists clenching at his sides as he fights the desire to cover himself. If the look on Chris’s face is any indication, he needn’t have worried. Chris looks ravenous, like he’d like nothing more than to eat Sebastian alive.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, leaning down to his hands on the mattress and dragging the tip of his nose up the inside of Sebastian’s thigh. “So fucking… can’t even think straight, look at you.”

“Chris,” Sebastian breathes.

Chris keeps moving until he’s _so close_ to where Sebastian wants him but stops just shy of it, nuzzling into his balls instead and inhaling like Sebastian’s scent is intoxicating.

“Chris,” Sebastian says again. He tugs at Chris’s hair and Chris moves again, crawling up the mattress until he’s on his hands and knees over Sebastian and can drop down and kiss him again, harder and more insistent than before.

This is a Chris that Sebastian hasn’t seen, until now. Even last night, Chris had still been sweet, and soft and affectionate. This is sex Chris in a completely different way, and Sebastian is so turned on he can barely see, vision going blurry around the edges.

“Want you to fuck me,” he rasps, the words coming out almost without permission from his brain, just a primal urge that he could barely control. “If… if you want.”

All the reasons they shouldn’t vibrate in the space between them, just for a moment. Just for a moment, Sebastian thinks he’s ruined it, because they can’t, because he lives 200 miles away, because Chris deserves better than him, because they only just met and Chris doesn’t like casual flings, because, because, because.

But then Chris kisses him again, and murmurs, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much.”

The relief that floods him is almost stronger than the arousal. Almost. But then Chris starts kissing his neck, hot and wet and with a hint of teeth, before making his way down Sebastian’s chest. When Chris’s mouth closes around his left nipple, Sebastian sucks in a breath, his hands flying up to bury themselves in the soft strands of Chris’s hair again.

“Chris,” he breathes. “Oh, god.”

Chris hums, flicking his tongue over the little nub and suckling it softly, then scraping his teeth over it. Sebastian hisses, but he loves it. Chris switches to his other side, takes his time, lavishing attention on Sebastian’s chest, but it’s never perfunctory. Every lick and gentle nip feels like it has a purpose, the purpose being to rile Sebastian up until he loses his fucking mind, apparently. But even when Chris finally leaves his chest alone and starts kissing a path down Sebastian’s chest, Chris manages to keep him on that edge of wanting it to last forever and wanting _more_ , so much more. He drags his tongue over the ridges of Sebastian’s abs, which tense under the attention, kisses his belly button, the dips of his pelvis, nips at the lines of his hipbones, but always studiously avoiding Sebastian’s erection. The fucking tease. And all this time, Sebastian babbles to him, gently encouraging, softly, urgently pleading.

After Chris has worshipped his torso for what seems like hours and Sebastian feels like Chris has covered absolutely every part of it in kisses, he shuffles back and settles properly between Sebastian’s spread legs. He ducks his head again to press barely there kisses to the inside of Sebastian’s thighs, up and up until he reaches the soft, sensitive skin of his groin.

“Chris, _please_ ,” Sebastian pants, almost frantic with it. “Stop teasing, please, I need…”

Chris hums sympathetically, which coincidentally doesn’t help at all since he’s humming so close to his aching dick.

“Shhh,” he soothes, “you’re doing so well, sweetheart. I don’t mean to tease you, I promise, but you just drive me crazy, lookin’ like this.” He pauses to lick a long stripe from Sebastian’s balls up over his shaft before lapping at the tip of his leaking cock. “Taste so good too, baby. _Fuck_.” 

Sebastian makes an almost inhuman sound at finally having Chris’s mouth on him where he needs him most. “Yes,” he hisses. “God, yes, _please_.”

“Tell me when you need me to stop,” Chris murmurs, and then Sebastian’s prayers are finally answered as Chris slips his mouth around him and slowly starts to sink down. Down and down, all the way down his throat, lips sliding velvety smooth along his shaft. Sebastian curses profoundly, trying to suck in a deep breath through his nose to calm himself down, because the wet, soft heat of Chris’s mouth around him feels so good he’s in real danger of actually losing his shit and start thrusting up into Chris’s throat if he doesn’t get a grip on himself real quick. Chris has been an incredibly generous lover so far, already a hundred times more so than any of the other bed partners he can recall having had. Not everyone is on board with having their mouth fucked, though, and Sebastian doesn’t want to cross any boundaries, but _Jesus Christ_ is it hard.

Chris lets up a moment, coming up to gulp in a breath before sinking down again and repeating the motion, swallowing him whole over and over. His hands are curled around Sebastian’s hipbones, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the smooth flesh as he continues to absolutely take him apart with his wicked, perfect mouth.

It’s heaven and it’s hell, because Sebastian has never had anyone go down on him like this, with this much attentiveness and dedication, apparently intent on giving him as much pleasure as possible while at the same time seeming to enjoy the hell out of it, too. It’s maddening and intoxicating, the devotion that’s coming off Chris in waves, the way his talented tongue presses just under the head, the way he creates a tight suction by hollowing out his cheeks and humming – but always, always, taking care not to tip Sebastian over the edge. It’s like he reads every cue, every tell Sebastian’s body has before Sebastian even notices it himself, playing his body like a fiddle.

Chris keeps him floating in this limbo for the longest time, so long Sebastian starts to lose all sense of his surroundings until all he knows his _Chris_ , and all can feel is the sweet, delicious ache in his lower abdomen, more ready to come than he’s ever been in his life. And that’s when Chris finally pulls off.

Sebastian lets out a shuddering sigh, breathing hard and struggling to adjust his blurred vision so he can down look at Chris, kneeling between his legs. Chris’s cheeks are flushed with exertion and arousal, his eyes dark and glazed over, lips bruised and wet from sucking Sebastian’s dick for what felt like forever. He’s a vision, and for one heart-stopping moment Sebastian fears that none of this is real and it’s nothing more than some beautiful fever dream.

But then his dreams have never been this good.

“Talk to me,” Chris says. “You good?” His voice sounds, raspy, fucked out, and it goes straight to Sebastian’s dick. He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes because it’s all just a fucking lot, okay? A good lot, but a lot nonetheless.

The next moment, Chris is hovering over him, gently tugging his arm away to try and get Sebastian to look him in the eye.

“Hey, are you okay? Did I take it too far?” Chris’s pretty blue eyes are shining with concern now, flitting over Sebastian’s face, and Sebastian thinks he’s never met anyone as ridiculous as this guy. How is he allowed to walk around freely, unsupervised? Surely this much charm and perfection requires a license at the very least. That absurd thought from his fuck-drunk brain makes a laugh suddenly bubble up in Sebastian’s chest, and before he can stop himself, he giggles.

At the sound, Chris’s face relaxes instantly, melting from concern to something between fond and bemused, looking down at Sebastian with a look so soft it makes the giggles die in his throat.

They look at each other for the span of a few seconds, and Sebastian can feel something pass between them. He knows it’s something significant, something they should probably talk about at some point, or maybe should very pointedly never talk about. It’s all too complicated for his brain to parse right now. He sighs in relief when Chris breaks the moment, leaning down to kiss him, slow and thorough.

“Still want me to fuck you?” Chris murmurs against his lips.

“Chris,” Sebastian says sweetly. “If you don’t get inside me within the next ten minutes I’m gonna have a meltdown.” He surges up to press a quick, hard kiss to Chris’s lips before adding, “You have been warned.” 

Chris makes a sound between a laugh and a groan. “Okay, okay,” he says, quickly sitting up to rummage through the drawer of his bedside table. “Point taken.”

When he hears the click of the lube bottle being opened, Sebastian’s heartrate speeds up; a Pavlovian response. His body knows what’s coming, and it’s so, so ready for it.

“How do you want me?” he asks, licking his lips.

Chris’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, before he says, “Turn around for me?”

Sebastian does as he’s asked, flipping onto his stomach, mindful of his sensitive dick. He hears Chris let out a deep, shaky breath behind him before a large, warm hand strokes down his back, over the swell of his ass and coming to rest on the inside of his thigh.

“Spread your legs a little.”

Sebastian obediently shuffles his legs apart a bit further, feeling absurdly pleased when Chris makes a small approving sound in the back of his throat.

When Chris’s fingers, slippery with lube, slide between his cheeks, Sebastian’s breath catches, and he tenses automatically. He wills himself to relax, but it’s only when Chris fingertips start to trace little circles around his rim that he shudders and slowly feels the tension start to seep from his frame. The motion is strangely soothing, almost hypnotizing, and when the tip of Chris’s thick finger finally pushes inside, it’s much more intense than it normally feels when someone does this to him. Not that many people have done this for him. Usually Sebastian opens himself up quickly and efficiently, simply as a means to an end. But the way Chris slowly, carefully works him open, leaning over his back and whispering sweet nothings into his ear; it feels like he’s doing it not to rush to the next step, but because he likes this. Likes feeling Sebastian’s body open up beneath him, likes the sounds Sebastian makes while he fingers him.

In fact, Chris tells him all this while he steadily fucks him open with one, then two, and finally three fingers. Sebastian is already struggling to breathe, squirming where he lies and so tempted to just rut against the mattress until he gets off, and then Chris suddenly, deliberately, curls his fingers and strokes his prostate – and Sebastian _mewls_.

It’s not a sound he’s ever hear himself make before, but then he’s never quite _felt_ like this before either; loose and open and at the same time wound up tight, like he’s ready to either float away or burst with the pleasure Chris is inflicting on him.

Chris keeps up the pressure on Sebastian’s sweet spot for a good while, fingering him deep and thorough until Sebastian thinks he must be sobbing, drooling into the mattress and possibly begging Chris to fuck him. He can hear himself moaning, but it sounds distant, like it’s coming from someone else.

Eventually, Chris pulls his fingers out of him, giving Sebastian a few seconds to catch his breath before he nudges his side, making him roll over onto his back. Sebastian thinks he must look ridiculous, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, his lips bitten raw and his face probably blotchy and flushed, but the way Chris looks at him then makes him forget all about feeling ridiculous. There’s so much naked hunger in his gaze, and something a lot like adoration, that it takes Sebastian’s breath away for a second.

“Are you okay on your back?” Chris whispers, and Sebastian nods.

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I like it. You. I like seeing you.” It’s not unusual for him to bottom, but more often than not he ends up on all fours, getting pounded from behind like it’s a race to the finish. This time, he needs something different. Something more.

“Okay,” Chris smiles, soft. He grabs a condom from the nightstand and puts it on with sure movements, before squirting some more lubricant into his palm and slicking himself up.

“You ready?” he asks again.

Sebastian resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I was ready two days ago,” he says, and he’s not even joking.

When the blunt head of Chris’s cock starts to push against his entrance, Sebastian wills himself to keep taking even breaths. He knows he’s loose enough, but Chris’s dick is… not small, and it’s been a while, and –

Suddenly, Chris grabs his hand in his own free hand, threading their fingers together as he finally breaches him and starts to sink in. Sebastian can feel his mouth drop open and his eyes close, feeling every inch of Chris as he buries himself inside of him. Chris is breathing hard, squeezing his hand so hard it almost hurts, but the pain is secondary to the pleasure. When he finally he bottoms out, they stay still for a moment.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Chris says finally. “Look at me, please.”

And Sebastian does. He doesn’t think he has it in him to resist Chris anything at this point.

Chris drops onto his elbows, hovering over Sebastian, caging him in. Their faces are so close, breathing the same air, and Sebastian surges up to capture Chris’s lips in a kiss, desperate to feel one more point of connection between them. Chris licks into his mouth, slow and lush, fucking his mouth with his tongue just as he starts to fuck him for real.

He starts off slow, gyrating his hips more than that he’s thrusting, and Sebastian can feel him so deep inside him he can almost taste it. He pants into Chris’s mouth, and Chris tells him how good he feels, how sweet he is, how pretty and _good_ , and Sebastian is reeling. No one has ever spoken to him like this, treated him like this, like he’s precious. Confusingly, he feels a lump forming in his throat even though Chris’s big body on top of him, his big cock inside of him, has him so turned on he can barely see straight.

He has no choice, really, but to give himself over to sensation, holding on tight to Chris’s sturdy shoulder blades as Chris starts to speed up his thrusts, driving his cock as deep into Sebastian’s body as he’s able. Sebastian has started to make little sounds now, aborted moans and whines that Chris punches out of him with each snap of his hips.

“How’s that feel, sweetheart?” Chris asks, the words breathy and low and sending shivers down Sebastian’s spine.

“ _Fuck_.” The word is torn out of him. “Oh, Jesus. Feels so good, Chris, you feel so – _Oh_.”

Chris punches his hips forward, then leans down to whisper in Sebastian’s ear, “If you can still talk, I’m not doin’ it right.”

Sebastian doesn’t even have time to process that statement before Chris starts to _really_ fuck him. He fills him up over and over again, pushing himself up on one arm while he grabs Sebastian’s thigh with his free hand. He pulls it upwards so he can change the angle and thrust up inside him, grazing his prostate with every stroke.

At this point, Sebastian is just making incoherent noises, his hands gripping Chris’s firm ass, clenching on each thrust, pulling him towards him to urge him impossibly deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sebastian chants breathlessly, eyes falling closed as he starts to feel the fire building low in his abdomen. “Fuck – me, Chris, oh, oh, _please_.” 

Then, Chris says, “Touch yourself, Sebastian.”

It takes Sebastian a minute to register the order, and when he does, he can’t believe he hasn’t tried to touch himself earlier. Chris fucked him so good he’d forgotten that was even an option. But the moment he wraps a hand around himself, the need to come suddenly quadruples. He would double over if he wasn’t being pinned in place by Chris’s body, and then Chris is speeding up even further, fucking him hard and deep and nothing like the gentle lovemaking they’ve been doing up until this point, and Sebastian just can’t take it.

“I, ah, _ah_ , I’m –” he whimpers, brow furrowing up in pleasure.

“Do it,” Chris growls. “Let me see you come, baby. Let me feel it.” 

And Sebastian does. His orgasm crashes into him, stealing his breath as he comes and comes, shaking underneath Chris and pulsing hotly over his own fist. Chris stays close, watching him, enraptured, until finally his thrusts start to falter and he buries his face in Sebastian’s neck, breathing his name as he comes deep inside Sebastian’s body.

Sebastian can’t feel his arms, or his legs, or his feet. Or rather, he feels his whole body thrum with satisfaction, ache with sweet exhaustion, but he can’t for the life of him remember which part of him is which. Or which parts of him are him, and which parts are Chris. He feels like they’re one big pile of hot and sweaty limbs, heaving chests and drooping eyes. It takes a good while before either of them is ready to move, and Sebastian doesn’t even care Chris is practically crushing him. It’s nice, being so close, even after the climax. Chris’s weight feels so nice on top of him.

Finally, Chris lifts his head and, inanely, starts to kiss Sebastian’s face. Not just his mouth, but his nose, his forehead, cheeks, the dimple in his chin. It’s nice and it’s sweet and it makes Sebastian giggle, feeling weightless and _good_ , better than he can remember feeling in his entire life. The more he giggles, the more Chris showers him in kisses, until finally he lands one on his lips and Sebastian seizes his chance. He grabs Chris’s face between his hands – which, oops, now there’s come in Chris’s beard, but they’ll take care of all the sticky stuff later – and keeps him there, kissing him slowly, deeply, until Chris sighs into his mouth.

“I really don’t wanna get up,” Chris whispers after a while, “but we’ll regret it in the morning if we don’t shower now.”

Sebastian groans. “Why must you be sensible as well as pretty? Give a guy a break, why don’t you?”

Chris is careful, so careful as he pulls out, kissing him to make up for the discomfort and then guiding him into the shower. They wash quickly, just to get clean, eager to get back to bed as soon as possible. Chris keeps him close as they do, though, taking care of him in a way that no one ever has before. Sebastian can feel the exhaustion starting to pull at his limbs, wanting to drag him under. When they get out of the shower, Chris wraps a towel around Sebastian and starts to rub him dry, until Sebastian gently pushes him back. “I’ve got this part,” he teases, sweetening his words with a soft kiss.

As soon as Chris pulls the covers over the both of them, he assumes the same position as he’d been in when Sebastian woke up this morning, arms wrapped tightly around his torso from behind, one leg thrown over his thighs. Normally, Sebastian would feel trapped like this, constricted, but right now he just feels… safe. He feels warm and glowy and safe and he wants Chris to hold him like this forever.

As he drifts of to sleep, there’s something niggling in the back of his brain, something he doesn’t much like and he doesn’t want to think about tonight. So he burrows closer to Chris, humming contentedly when Chris kisses the back of his neck. Whatever it is, it’ll keep until tomorrow.

\---

Sebastian stirs. He inhales deeply through his nose, the air he finds a little musty. He realizes, after a few slow moments and a heavy blink or two, that it’s because his face is pressed into Chris’s neck. Head tucked right under his chin, arm draped over his ribcage, one leg in between Chris’s. Sebastian is nearly absorbed right into him, as if they’re melding together into one person. Chris’s arms are around him as possessively as they had been hours ago when they fell asleep together. He’s a sleep-snuggler, apparently, and Sebastian never has been but his unconscious self doesn’t seem to have any problem with it at all. Chris smells good, manly and a little bit sweet, and he’s so warm. It’s like being wrapped up in a man-sized hot water bottle, soothing every inch of Sebastian’s slightly sore body. It’s the best kind of sore, though. Every time he shifts he feels the marks Chris left on him, the dull ache of them under the surface.

Above him, Chris stirs as well. Lips kiss Sebastian’s hair, and Chris stretches his legs and back but then relaxes back into the embrace and doesn’t make any further effort to move. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice thick and scratchy.

“Hey,” Sebastian answers.

“Merry Christmas Eve.”

“You, too.”

“Sleep okay?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian answers kisses the skin in front of his lips, Chris warm and soft against him. “You?”

“Really good. Better than I have in a long time, I think.”

Sebastian doesn’t ask why. He’s not sure how Chris’s answer would make him feel.

For a long time, they just lie together. Sebastian’s bladder starts to distantly nag at him, but he puts it off. He doesn’t want to get up, doesn’t want Chris to let go of him. Their warm, soft cocoon of arms and blankets feels like a nest, and Sebastian might just want to stay burrowed in it forever.

“I like this,” he hears himself saying softly. It slips out, before his brain even fully has a chance to debate whether or not he should admit it.

“Cuddling?” Chris asks.

Sebastian nods, and he’s in it now, so he continues. “I never do it, really. Never wake up with someone, at least not like this.”

“I think it’s my favorite thing,” Chris says, clandestinely. His fingers drag along Sebastian’s back, feather-light up and down his spine. “Better than sex, even. It’s intimate in a different way.”

Sebastian nods again. He tilts his chin up, asking for a kiss, that Chris gives him, smiling into it. “Sex is pretty good too, though, right?” he jokes, and Chris chuckles warmly.

“Usually, yeah. With you it was.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Chris kisses him again. “Amazing. Gonna be stuck in my head for a long time.”

Sebastian hums, and his cheeks warm from the praise.

His phone buzzes, on the nightstand behind him. Sebastian frowns, not realizing he hadn’t put it on silent before they went to sleep. Reluctantly, he shifts, Chris letting go of him so he can roll over, reaching for it. Sebastian squints, the screen too bright to his tired eyes, and swipes his thumb over the email notification. Then his heart drops.

It’s from the airport. An announcement that the weather system has finally lifted, and the airlines are open for business again. Sebastian stares at it, reading it over again, hoping that if he reads it enough times his eyes will stop playing tricks on him and it will change before them into an email from a client that he can put off until tomorrow. But it doesn’t.

He presses the power button and sets the phone back down. When he turns his head back on the pillow, Chris is watching him, still lying on his side with one hand under his cheek. His eyes say it all. He doesn’t need Sebastian to tell him. “You gotta go.”

Sebastian doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know what he would say. He exhales deeply, and Chris reaches for him and pulls him back into a warm embrace. Sebastian presses his face into Chris’s neck, and breathes him in.


	4. Chapter 4

The cab that pulls up to the curb outside the Inn is white, but it looks yellowed against the backdrop of snow. The sun is already setting, even though it’s barely 4pm, so the Christmas lights on the buildings across the street have already come on. It gives their surroundings a soft, hazy glow, and it would be dreamy and beautiful if Chris wasn’t standing next to Sebastian staring at the car that’s about to take him away, back to New York, and out of Chris’s life forever.

He knew this was coming. They both did. Sebastian warned him, when Chris had asked him to dinner. God, that feels like a lifetime ago. Chris can’t believe it was only three days. Sebastian had pointed out that he lives 200 miles away, and that he’d only be in Concord as long as the storm was. It was the reality right from the beginning. Chris had said that he doesn’t like casual sex, and that’s the truth, he doesn’t. Sebastian had respected that, and Chris had made the choice to go against his own best interests and dive in anyway, all the while knowing exactly how it was all going to end. He’d _known_. He’d always known. And now here they are, and Chris has no idea how to say goodbye, when it’s the last thing in the world he wants to do.

“I… um.” Sebastian scratches the back of his head, and winces. “I don’t know…”

“Me neither,” Chris mumbles.

Sebastian turns. His eyes are bright and glassy, Christmas lights from the eaves behind them shining in their reflection. “I got stranded in a small town right before Christmas because of a snowstorm. The last few days should’ve been shitty. But they weren’t. So… thank you.”

Chris nods, numbly. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Sebastian reaches for his hand. He threads their fingers together, squeezing around Chris’s palm, and then he tugs gently. Chris shouldn’t. It’ll just make everything worse. But in truth, he can’t imagine how it could be worse, and he can’t resist those sweet lips one last time, like one final sip of water before embarking into an endless desert. Sebastian’s hands cup his face, thumbs rubbing through his beard. When their lips fall apart, their foreheads stay pressed together for a moment, sharing frosted air between them.

It feels like ripping his own arm off, to let go of Sebastian’s waist and step back as he climbs into the cab. Sebastian doesn’t look back as it drives away, but Chris stands in the snow and watches until it’s out of sight.

\---

For the first time in his entire life, Chris is miserable on Christmas. The routine remains the same as it has since he moved back here. He goes over to his parents’ house in the evening with an overnight bag and Dodger, so he can sleep in his childhood bedroom and wake up with his family on Christmas morning. Only this year, that’s just mere hours after saying goodbye to Sebastian, probably forever.

Sweet, sarcastic, intelligent, beautiful Sebastian, who Chris had in his arms just this morning, warm and soft. Chris can still taste him on his lips. He can still hear Sebastian’s laughs and moans, gorgeous noises ringing in his years. He can still feel the ghost of him on his fingertips, smooth skin and silky hair and firm muscles. It’s all still so close to the surface, but it’s gone. By this point, Sebastian will already be back in Manhattan. Back to his real life, back to his job and his friends and to hot guys who he lets into his bed just to fuck him and then leave in the morning without a word. They don’t deserve him, they don’t deserve to even look at him, let alone have him the way Chris did last night. But that’s not Chris’s call to make. It never really was. _He’s_ the one who got attached, when he promised himself he wouldn’t. Hell, he’s the one who went over to Sebastian at the pub and helped him pick up the papers he’d dropped, and bought him a drink, and invited him to a damn gingerbread house making contest. This is entirely Chris’s own fault. That just doesn’t make it any easier.

“I met someone, and it didn’t work out,” is the only explanation he’ll offer, when his mother asks what’s bothering him. He’s never been any good at hiding his emotions. He feels them all too much.

“When?” she asks, with a confused but sympathetic frown.

He shakes his head. “Leave it, okay?”

A deeper frown, and a flicker of hurt across her face because normally, Chris shares everything with her. But this hurt is just too fresh, and she must sense that because she does leave it.

Scott is looking at him from across the room. They all are, chancing glances at him in turns, so that they aren’t all staring at once but at least one pair of eyes is always on him. Like he needs to be supervised in his own childhood home, like if someone isn’t monitoring him he might throw a fit and knock over the Christmas tree or something. It’s one of the worst mornings of Chris’s life, and it’s _Christmas_.

When he arrives back to his own house, late at night and stuffed with turkey and mashed potatoes that he’d barely tasted, he gets his pillow from his bedroom and sets himself up with it and a blanket on the couch. He can’t sleep in his bed. It still smells like Sebastian. It smells like everything Chris has ever wanted, given to him for just enough time to fall for it madly and then ripped away.

\---

“How horrible would it be if I said _I told you so_?” Carly asks.

“Horrible,” Chris answers. He picks at a hole in the knee of his jeans.

“Sorry.” She cringes, and sits next to him on her couch. “Bad attempt at a joke to lighten the mood.”

“ _I_ told me so.” Chris sighs, and scrubs his hands over his face. “I told myself the second I found out he was from out of town, it would be stupid to get involved. Told myself not to over and over again.”

“So, what happened?”

“I didn’t listen.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbles. He knows, though, deep down. Sebastian fascinated him. Drew him in from the first time he saw him across the room, had him hooked within seconds. He never stood a chance. But putting everything that’s special about Sebastian into words feels impossible, somehow, so he doesn’t try.

“Hm.”

Chris frowns at her. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, let me have it.”

“It’s not that.” She turns to him on the couch, hitching one leg up so she can face him. She looks so much like their Mom. “You haven’t been with anybody since you’ve been back here. How long had it been since the last time you had sex, before him?”

“Years.”

“ _Years_ ,” she repeats. “It’s not like you haven’t had any options. There are dozens of people in this town who’d love to hop into your bed for a night. Men and women. And you’ve turned them all down, because casual wasn’t what you wanted anymore.”

“I told him that,” Chris says miserably. He wants to curl into a ball and have the floor open up and swallow him whole. “And he respected it. And then I did it anyway.”

“So what was different about him?”

Sadness wells up in Chris’s throat. It chokes him, making the words nearly impossible to get out as he furiously blinks tears out of his eyes. He could say so many things. He could say he’d gone over to Sebastian initially just to be kind, but had been instantly drawn in. He could say Sebastian’s smile makes his ocean-blue eyes crinkle around the edges when he smiles. He could say Sebastian had been smart and funny and sarcastic. He could say most people would have run for the hills if a complete stranger had asked them to come to a gingerbread house making contest, but Sebastian hadn’t. He could say Sebastian had been blown away by Chris lending him clothes, as if no one had ever before done him a favor expecting nothing in return, and somehow Chris found that sparking within him a desire to do more. He could say how endeared he was that Sebastian seemed to have a few of the same gripes that Chris himself had with corporate Manhattan, but that Sebastian seemed to be trying to bring good into the world within that broken system. He could say that Sebastian’s laugh was sunshine and his embrace was a warm blanket, that kissing him was like twinkly starlight, that holding him after sex was like returning home when Chris didn’t even know he’d strayed away from it.

But none of that is going to make a damn bit of difference to how he’s feeling right now, and so Chris doesn’t really see the point of trying to explain the mess that is his emotions to his sister. He doubts she’d fully understand, anyway. Not that she isn’t empathetic, she is, it’s just that Chris has never met anyone who feels things quite the way he does.

“I don’t know,” he repeats forlornly.

“But he was different.”

Chris nods. He sniffs, and then can’t hold it in anymore. He crumbles, tears springing to his eyes that spill down his cheeks before he can stop them.

“Chris,” Carly is sighing. “Honey, come here.”

He lets himself be pulled into her arms, crying into his shoulder. Big, miserable tears soak through her shirt and Chris’s shoulders shake with the intensity of it, an ache in his chest that feels like his heart might really be breaking.

“What if I love him?” he forces out, around a dramatic sob.

To her credit, she doesn’t snort or laugh in his face, just gently asks, “After three days?”

“I know. I know it’s crazy but I… when we were together, the way he made me feel… the way it felt to wake up with him in my arms, Carly, what the hell do I do? He’s gone and I’m never gonna see him again.”

“I don’t know,” she answers, sounding truly sorry about it. She strokes his arm as he cries stupidly into her shoulder until he’s run out of tears.

\---

If he’d been hoping to feel lighter after crying on Carly’s shoulder, he finds the next morning when he wakes up that isn’t the case. If anything, he feels even more miserable. It wasn’t cleansing, like it should have been. It just amplified the hopelessness of his situation.

He slept on the couch again and to add insult to injury (or technically maybe the other way around) he now has a crick in his neck that throbs painfully every time he inhales. Clearly, he isn’t twenty-one anymore. Knowing he can’t put it off forever, he forces himself to go into the bedroom and strip the sheets from the bed, gathering everything into his arms and making his way to the laundry room. But then he suddenly catches a whiff of Sebastian’s scent that lingers in the fabric even after several days, and the next thing he knows he’s sitting on the floor, crying into the sheets.

Dodger, having sensed Chris’s distress in the way only animals can, comes sniffing around the corner in no time, butting his head up against Chris’s shoulders and face, trying to lick away the tears. Chris buries both his hands in Dodger’s caramel fur, followed by his face. Dodger whimpers, attempting to lick him some more which results in a wet tongue somewhere behind his ear, making Chris reluctantly huff out a wet laugh.

Of course he knows he’s being stupid. He knew Sebastian for a grand total of three days, and he’s acting like he had his heart broken and trampled on for good measure. But the truth is, that’s exactly how it feels. It feels like Sebastian ripped out a piece of his heart and took it with him to New York. And while he’s more than welcome to any part of him, the problem is that now Chris feels incomplete. He feels empty. He _yearns._

Shaking his head brusquely from side to side, he wipes the tears off his face with the back of his hand.

“Stop being so melodramatic, man,” he tells himself. “You met someone, you had a great time, he left. That’s all. No one died.”

Even has he’s saying the words, he knows his attempt at a self-pep talk is futile. If there’s anything he’s learned from 30 years of being alive, it’s that his big dumb heart will feel anything it wants to feel, no matter what his brain tries to tell it. Rationally, he knows that he was perfectly happy and content with his life four days ago, and that technically, nothing about it has changed.

These past few years, Chris had been content being by himself. Doing his own thing, spending time with his friends and family, working at the shelter. He knew he wanted to settle down some day, have a family, but he only wanted that if it would be with someone he truly, wholly loved. Someone who would make his life better than it already was in ways he hadn’t even imagined before. He didn’t want to date for the sake of dating, or because that was what people expected of him. He was perfectly fine on his own, and if he was going to be with someone, he wanted there to be a genuine connection from the get-go. Call him a hopeless romantic, but that’s just how he’s wired.

Well, he got his connection alright. A typical case of be careful what you wish for. And now, despite the fact that nothing fundamentally changed, everything feels different.

He sighs, getting to his feet with heavy limbs and a heavier heart, and eventually does get the sheets into the washing machine. The knowledge that he has no choice but to wash the sheets – it’s not like he can keep unwashed bedding in his closet just so he can smell it from time to time, at least not without being a massive creep – and walk away only barely overrides the desire to leave them as they are; to keep Sebastian with him for as long as his scent might linger on cotton.

Jesus, he needs to get some fresh air. Maybe go for a ramble around the woods behind his house, try to clear his head. But at the same time, he knows he’ll just make himself more miserable by overthinking everything even further.

With a sigh, he grabs his phone off the kitchen table and shoots off a text to Scott. Scott may be his baby brother, but he’s the one in a successful, long-term relationship here, so he’s probably qualified to give his older, less lucky-in-love brother some advice.

Scott responds within a few seconds, agreeing to meet him.

The storm has died down – ugh, doesn’t he know it – but it’s still absolutely freezing outside and the snow is still packed high enough that going for a walk requires the proper gear. So Chris gets on his snow boots, an extra sweater and his thick, goose-down coat, plus gloves and a woolen hat. By the time he’s all set, Scott is at the door.

Scott is equally layered-up, which makes their usual brotherly hug a little awkward but no less heartfelt.

“How’re you doing?” Scott pulls back but keeps both his hands on Chris’s shoulders, squeezing a little. His expression is kind, but carefully devoid of pity, which Chris appreciates immensely.

Chris makes a face. “Been better. Let’s just walk for a bit, yeah?”

“Sure, Chris. Dodger coming?”

At the sound of his name, Dodger barks as if to say, _don’t even think about leaving me behind_.

Scott snorts. “Alright then, mongrel. C’mon.”

The three of them head out through the backdoor, trudging through the snow in Chris’s backyard as they head for the woods behind his house. They walk in silence for a little bit, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other without disappearing into fox holes that are covered up by the snow, until they emerge from the dense copse onto the winding path.

“I’m guessing Carly probably filled you in?” Chris asks finally, breaking the silence.

Scott hums. “Kinda, yeah.” He shoots Chris a long, sideways glance before facing forward again. “You met someone? Fell for him after three days?”

He nods, already feeling himself starting to choke up again. Ah, what the hell. It’s not the first time Scott has seen him cry and it definitely won’t be the last.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice hoarse. “He left, though. Knew all along he wasn’t going to be here long and I fell for him anyway, like an idiot.” 

“But he lives in New York?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s doable,” Scott says. “Long distance relationships aren’t ideal, but it’s not like he lives in Japan. That flight is less than ninety minutes, and we both know you’ve got the money. Besides, don’t you think that if you guys really wanted to be together you could make it work?”

Chris shrugs defeatedly. “What’s the point, though? I can’t live in New York, you know that.” His whole family remembers the state he was in when he returned from New York all too well. It hadn’t been a pretty sight and it had taken a long while for him to get back to his old, cheerful self. 

“He could move here, maybe? Eventually?”

Shaking his head, Chris sighs. “He’s a career guy. Big deal at his firm, works ‘round the clock. And he’s worked hard to get where he is, I can’t see him ever giving that up. Not for Boston, and certainly not for this sleepy little town.”

“Even if it’s got you in it?” Scott asks.

Chris scoffs. “You say that like I’ve got something to offer. I’m just a guy who likes to go on hikes and sit by the fire and read Hannah Arendt. I wanna settle down, start a family, Scott. Fuck, I couldn’t be further from what Sebastian wants.”

“Is that what he said?”

“Not in so many words, but come on. What’s a City lawyer gonna do in Concord, huh? Help Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Jim solve their domestic quarrels?” He realizes then that he raised his voice unintentionally in his frustration and he sighs. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be shouting at you, I know you’re just tryin’ to help.”

Scott throws an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him briefly. “Don’t worry about it. I get it. Look, I can’t speak for this guy obviously because I haven’t met him” – his tone implies that he’s a little salty that Carly got to meet Sebastian but not him – “but I haven’t seen you like this in a _very_ long time, if ever. You clearly care about him a lot and knowing you, that means he’s a real special guy. I assume you have his number, so my personal advice would be to call him and _talk_ to him. See how he feels. Maybe he’s just as miserable as you are, you ever thought of that?”

On some level, Chris knew that was what Scott was going to say, and he’s got his answer ready.

“Sebastian was very clear from the beginning that he was going back to New York as soon as the storm cleared up, that this was just a one-time fling.” He stops walking, coming to a halt on the wooden bridge that crosses the little river and leaning against the railing.

“It isn’t like you, to get involved in something like that. At least not anymore.” Scott leans next to him, elbows propped up on the handrail.

“I know.” Chris exhales heavily. His breath turns to clouds in front of his face, and then disappears into the frosty air. “I ignored all my instincts telling me not to.”

“What about him?”

“We didn’t talk all that much about that. I got the impression casual sex was a little more his speed, but… Look, I’m not saying he doesn’t care about me at all, or that he doesn’t wish things were different, but they’re just… not. And I need to come to terms with that, one way or another.”

“I guess so.”

Burying his head in his hands, Chris lets out a frustrated growl. “It’s just fucking hard, Scott. I _miss_ him. I know that’s stupid after three days, but I do. I miss how he made me feel. I miss his smile and his kindness and the little bump on his ear, for fuck’s sake. God, why am I such a fucking drama queen?”

He’s crying again now, and Scott moves in closer to him, shoulder to shoulder, letting him know he’s there. Dodger sits down next to them, pressed to Chris’s leg. His faithful companion. The one living being who doesn’t have to begrudgingly put up with how anxious and emotional and overbearing Chris is, because dogs don’t notice those things.

“You’re not a drama queen, Chris,” Scott says quietly. When Chris scoffs, he laughs and amends, “Well, maybe you’re a little bit of a drama queen, but most of all you’ve just got a big heart. You love big, and you ache deep. I know it’s hard for you, but it’s one of the things that makes you one of the most amazing people I know. And I’m not just saying that ‘cause you’re my brother and I’m hoping you’ll get me and Zach a trip to Hawaii for Christmas.”

Chris barks out a wet laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime, bro.” Scott pats his back. “Listen, Chris, I just want you to be happy, you know that. And it sounds to me like this guy could potentially make you very happy, but again, I haven’t met him. You know him better than I do, and if you say he isn’t going to change his mind, then maybe it would be best to try and forget him.” Scott’s expression is soft, but there’s a strength underneath it that Chris knows he can count on if he needs it. “I know it won’t be easy for you for a while, but we’re all gonna be here for you, look out for you, alright? Anything you need, you just let us know.”

Chris knows he’s lucky with a family like his. Friends like his. But right now, it’s kind of hard to feel lucky. He hates being a downer or a burden on his loved ones. He swore, after New York, to never do that again, but it seems like it’s kind of inevitable now. He’s going to be nursing this broken heart for a while yet, even though he never should have let it all happen in the first place.

“Yeah,” he says, letting out a shaky sigh. “I know.”

“You’ll be at Shanna’s New Year’s party, won’t you? We’ll have some beers, do some karaoke with the kids. It’ll be fun.”

Chris doubts very much it’s going to be fun, but he appreciates what Scott is trying to do. He’s just going have to put on a brave face for the rest of the holidays and then he can stew in his misery all he wants from the 1st of January onward. January is typically a bleak month anyway, grey and dark and cold. Perfect for wallowing in self-pity.

“Of course I’ll be there,” he says, straightening his shoulders and forcing himself to smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

\---

He almost does call Sebastian that night.

Despite how quickly he’d shot them down, Scott’s words ring in his ears and his traitorous brain keeps whispering _what if…?_ His finger hovers over Sebastian’s name in his phone as he paces around his living room, trying to think of what he might say, how he could explain how he’s feeling and what he would want from Sebastian without sounding like a complete whacko.

In the end, that’s what decides it for him. He can’t call Sebastian, because there is no way he could explain the situation to him without Sebastian thinking him some sort of psycho. He has no clue how to act chill and pretend he’s just interested in a casual follow up of their hookup or anything like that. Besides, Sebastian probably would see right through him, given that Chris had been far too open and honest with him from the start to have anything left to hide behind. Chris is nearly positive that in all the partners Sebastian has ever had, casual or otherwise, none of them have ever called him up and confessed their love for him and asked him to consider moving to a different state after knowing him for three days. He’d take out a restraining order, and he’d be justified in it.

He lets out a colorful string of expletives and throws his phone into the couch cushions. He stupidly thinks about how there are fingerprints on the glass screen of his phone that belong to Sebastian. Because he’d handed it over and let Sebastian enter his number. Unless Chris disinfects his phone with Windex, there are still traces of Sebastian’s DNA here. Washing the sheets wasn’t enough to get rid of him. Hell, disinfecting his entire house wouldn’t even do the trick, because Sebastian has taken up residence inside his mind and doesn’t seem intent on leaving anytime soon.

Chris sighs. There are so many emotions warring inside of him, and none of them are good. Normally, he’d go for a run by the river or drive to the gym to try and sweat some of it out, but neither seems like a very attractive option in the snow.

He ends up in his backyard, furiously bringing an axe down over and over again on the chopping block set up on his patio. Maybe if he chops hard enough, some of that tight, awful feeling that’s stuck in his chest might ease, just a little.

It doesn’t, not really, but at least now he’s got firewood.


	5. Chapter 5

Sebastian stifles a yawn.

Gerald, the managing partner, has been up on the stage in the middle of the room for the past ten minutes, delivering his annual end of year speech, which sadly isn’t any more interesting this time around than it has been for the past seven or so years. Sebastian can feel everyone around him look for the appropriate moments to laugh, while simultaneously willing the guy off stage already so they can get back to networking and day drinking.

The end of year party actually falls on the 31st this year, and people are using this afternoon as an opportunity to get a nice buzz going ahead of whatever spectacular NYE shindig they are headed later that evening. It’s not a surprise to see everyone is already dressed to the nines; women in tight dresses and high heels and men in identical suits and shiny shoes standing around in a large room that’s covered in sparkling lights and black and gold balloons. The whole set up is trying very hard – too hard, if you ask him – to create a festive atmosphere, celebrating another highly successful year for the firm.

Sebastian, for one, can’t wait for this year to be over. His promotion last January meant that he’d been even busier than previous years, and he knows he shouldn’t complain, but stress is stress, and it had been a tough year. In fact, the past two weeks had probably been the best of the entire year, and that’s saying something, considering how miserable his Christmas had been. Sebastian’s Mom had spent it with friends upstate, because experience had shown that Sebastian would most likely work all through the holidays and would barely have time to drop by for a glass of Țuică and a chat. True to form, he did actually end up working through both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, trying to catch up with the backlog of work and emails that had accumulated while he was in Concord, frolicking around with Chris.

Chris, who he can’t seem to stop thinking about.

Even while drowning in work and hardly having had five minutes to himself since he got back from Concord, Sebastian can’t for the life of him get Chris out of his head.

There he was, up to his neck in case files, sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up and sipping on his third espresso of the day at 9am, and suddenly, the image of Chris sitting in the middle of his big bed, shirtless and sleepy and so, so soft, completely derailed his train of thought. It took several minutes of deep, even breaths and pressing the heels of his hands against his eye sockets to get himself under control enough to continue working, only for the same thing to happen again barely half an hour later. Mental images and memories of the time he spent with Chris keep springing up in his head, and Sebastian just can’t get them to stop. He doesn’t understand why he misses this man who he barely knows so damn much, but he does.

He keeps wondering how Chris’s Christmas had been, picturing him in a warm, cozy living room, laughing and joking with his siblings, Dodger curled up at his feet. He imagines Chris playing board games with his sister’s kids, imagines him wearing that white, cable-knit sweater as he sat by the fire, reading one of those philosophical books he told Sebastian he loved. He imagines Chris seeing the rip in the neck hole of that sweater and remembering their first night together.

And Sebastian feels lonelier than ever, plagued by a sense of longing that won’t leave him alone. Something that, despite the fact that he’d never fully acknowledged it, he knows had been there all along, just hidden under layers of ambition and drive to accomplish and achieve big things, no matter the cost. Now, he’s starting to realize that the cost is higher than he’d ever even imagined – but of course, that doesn’t mean he has a clue what to do about it.

 _It was just a fling_. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

What happens in Concord, stays in Concord; they’d been clear on that from the start. Besides, it doesn’t take a genius to see how vastly different their lives are, how utterly incompatible. Even if they did want to try and make this work somehow, Chris had been very clear that he wasn’t looking for a casual, long-distance relationship. He made it equally clear that he could never live in New York again, and Sebastian would never ask that of him either, meaning it would come down to him to move there. But this isn’t the movies. He can’t just drop everything and leave the life he’s made for himself here in New York for a guy he’s known for just a few days. Risk everything for something that has a high possibility of not working out in the long run. Just because they had chemistry – albeit incredible chemistry unlike anything he’d ever felt before – that doesn’t mean they would necessarily work in a relationship.

Deep down, of course, he knows that something special happened, back in Concord. He knows that what he and Chris had wasn’t just a glorified one-night-stand. They’d had a genuine connection, more so than Sebastian thinks he’s had with people he’s known for far longer than he’s known Chris. The fact that he’s been so out of sorts since the moment he got into that taxi, taking him away from Chris and his beautiful, big heart, is proof enough that what they shared was real. Significant.

The question is, is that enough?

There had been a couple of moments over the past few days where he had almost, _almost_ picked up the phone and called him. The nights were the hardest. His bed, which had always served him perfectly fine, was suddenly too cold and empty and made him crave the feeling of Chris’s strong but gentle arms around him as he drifted off to sleep. But just the thought of actually going through with it, of dialing Chris’s number and wait for him to pick up (or not) made him laugh a little hysterically.

What’s he gonna say?

_Hey Chris, I know we agreed that what we had would just be a one-off thing, but do you just want to whisper sweet nothings in my ear over the phone so I can fall asleep to the sound of your voice because I miss it so damn much and I’ve hardly slept since leaving your bed?_

Sebastian blows out a long, slow breath, trying to ease the tightness in his chest; that tangle of confused emotions that seems to have settled permanently under his breastbone. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is just going to magically disappear. He takes a long sip from his champagne and pretends to pay attention to the grand finale of Gerald’s sleep-inducing speech. As soon as it ends and the polite clapping and cheering starts, he makes his way over to the other side of the room, where he spotted Jonathan chatting with Janette from PR earlier.

He weaves his way through the crowd, politely touching lower backs and bare shoulders until he reaches his friend. It’s been a while since Jonathan and he met up for beers, and Sebastian resolves to have a new date in his calendar before he heads home later.

“Oh, hey man!” Jonathan greets him with his usual enthusiasm, clapping him firmly on the shoulder.

Sebastian suppresses a wince, offering him a smile. “Hey, pal. Long time no see.”

Jonathan grimaces. “You know how it is,” he says. “December’s always crazy.”

“You say that like the rest of the year is any different,” Sebastian jokes, and the two of them share a companionable chuckle before Sebastian turns to greet Janette. “Happy early New Year, Janette.”

She just gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, before continuing to fawn over his friend. His straight and undeniably good-looking friend, he might add.

“But really, Jonathan,” Janette coos. “A spring wedding, how wonderful! Danielle must be thrilled.”

Sebastian blinks. “Who’s getting married?” he asks, looking between the two of them.

Janette shoots him a look. “Jonathan is, of course.”

“What?” Sebastian frowns in confusion, turning to Jonathan. “Not actually, though. Are you?”

Jonathan huffs a slightly awkward sounding laugh. “I actually am.”

“But – to whom?”

“To… Danielle. My fiancée?”

“I- I don’t,” Sebastian stammers. “Have I ever met her?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to frown. “I don’t think so, buddy. She’s been to the office a few times but I think you were probably busy.”

“Oh.” Sebastian feels a little like the rug’s being pulled from under him. He didn’t even know Jonathan was dating anyone. Shaking himself, he forces a smile and puts a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Well, congratulations, pal. She must be a real special lady if you’re ready to tie the knot so quickly.”

“Jonathan and Danielle have been dating for three years,” Janette interrupts irritably, barely refraining from rolling her eyes.

What.

Suddenly, the room is spinning around him, and it has nothing to do with the expensive champagne.

His best friend has been dating someone for three years and he had _no idea_. It was serious enough for Johnathan to ask this girl to marry him, and Sebastian had never even heard her name.

He’s reeling, thinking back to all the times when he and Jonathan had hung out, and has the slightly sickening realization that in all this time, they only ever talked shop. He can’t even recall one instance where he’d shared anything about his personal life, or vice versa. His best friend is nothing more than a work acquaintance, and he hadn’t even realized. What kind of person does that make him? Is he really that shallow and cold that he’s incapable of forming meaningful relationships, even platonic ones?

Unbidden, in the midst of his existential crisis, the image of Chris’s face after he’d kissed Sebastian goodbye outside the Inn comes to mind. The way Chris had looked at him then, as he had so many times over the course of the days before: like he was precious and important, like it was breaking his heart a little to let Sebastian drive away.

And that’s it, Sebastian realizes.

That’s what matters. Not the glitz and glam of the City, not the networking, or the bonus and the pat on the shoulder from Gerald after successfully wrapping up another case. None of that matters one little bit, in the grand scheme of things. When he’s 85 and looking back on his life, will it mean anything at all to him that he once helped a wife walk away from a divorce with five million and a couple of traumatized kids instead of two million and a couple of traumatized kids? Will it mean anything that he was able to buy a bigger apartment on the Upper East Side that he’d hardly spend time in anyway because he’s always working? Will any of that mean anything at all, when he’s left all alone at the end of his life, because he’d always been too busy and career-focused to really get to know people and form genuine connections with them?

The answer is suddenly laughably clear to him.

From one moment to the next, he can’t stand one more minute of this empty life, the money and the posing and the fakeness. What he craves now, more than anything, is something _real_. Something solid and real, like Chris’s arms around him, the way they moved together, the warmth and safety of his bed. Like the little diner where they’d had breakfast together, and the sweet, old dog at the shelter that he can’t seem to forget, for some reason. Like the warm and honest people he’d met at the community center and who had welcomed him so unreservedly into their lives because they thought he was the person who was making their Christopher happy.

And Sebastian wants to be that person. He wants to be that person for Chris; that wonderful, one-of-a-kind man who sorted out his priorities a long time ago and was happily living his life surrounded by his loved ones, just waiting for the right partner to come along. Of course, there’s no telling Sebastian is definitely that right partner, that he’ll be enough to make Chris happy even in a year, two years, or even ten years’ time. But he wants to _try_. More than anything, he wants to give this his best shot, invest all that passion and commitment he’s been wasting on his job all these years into something, _someone_ , worthwhile.

Ignoring the respectively concerned and exasperated looks that Jonathan and Janette are giving him, Sebastian puts down his champagne flute on the tray of a passing waiter and looks up.

“Congratulations again,” he tells Jonathan. “I’m really happy for you, man.” He laughs then – a clear, bright sound that erupts from his throat and startles not only his companions, but himself, too. “But I, uh. I’ve gotta go.”

And without any further explanation, Sebastian turns around and walks away, not looking back. He keeps walking until he reaches the sidewalk outside their offices, shivering against the icy wind, and hails a cab to the airport. He considers letting the guy make a detour past his place to pick up some stuff in case he ends up having to stay the night somewhere, but decides against it in the end. He survived an unexpected overnight stay in Concord before, after all, and besides, the only thing that matters right now is that he gets to Chris and tells him how he feels about him, and see if maybe, just maybe, Chris might feel the same way. He knows there’s a chance Chris will turn him away or think he’s insane for just showing up at his doorstep out of the blue, but he has to try. Now that he’s made up his mind, there’s no stopping him.

He books a last minute flight to Boston on his phone, thanking his lucky stars that he arranged to get a mobile passport a few months ago for that trip to Biarritz, and that it’s New Year’s Eve, which means not a lot of people are travelling tonight. Once he’s done, he puts his phone away to save the battery, and proceeds to look unseeingly out of the window as they exchange the Christmas trees along Park Avenue for the significantly less cheery prospect of Grand Central Parkway.

They get to the airport in no time, his plane is on time and his flight remarkably quick and uneventful, and before he knows it, he’s standing outside Boston Logan International Airport again, experiencing a disorienting sense of déjà vu.

He checks his watch. It’s a little past 10pm. Suddenly, it hits him that he’s actually planning on showing up on Chris’s doorstep on New Year’s Eve. Well, one way or another, he’s ending the year with a bang; whether it’s a door in his face of the kind he’s secretly hoping for. 

A cab pulls up. “Where to, sir?” the driver asks once he’s rolled down the window.

“Concord,” Sebastian replies. “I don’t know the exact address, but I can direct you there once we get into town.”

“No problem,” the driver says, “get in, son.”

The moment he does, Sebastian realizes that he’s in the same cab, with the same driver, as he was that night his plane got cancelled and he’d had to return to Concord. He lets out a startled laugh. What are the odds? That has to be a sign, right?

“Liked the Inn that much that you couldn’t stay away, huh?” the driver jokes, indicating that he’s recognized Sebastian as well.

Sebastian smiles. “Something like that.”

His heart is racing the entire drive. It’s nearly an hour, but it feels like four or five, because he’s nervous and he can’t stop his hands from shaking. He goes back and forth a dozen times, as he stares out the window into the darkness of the highway.

This was a stupid idea, Chris doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want a long-distance relationship, he’d basically said as much, he wants to meet someone who’s already settled in the town and start a family. Sebastian doesn’t even know if he wants to be a father. He’d always assumed it wouldn’t happen for him, and hadn’t given it any more thought than that.

Then he thinks, _no_ , this is a fantastic idea. Chris didn’t say he’d refuse long-distance, he said he didn’t want _casual_ , and even though it was only three days, nothing about what they had was casual. Sebastian’s done sex without feelings enough to know the difference. The way Chris kissed him and held him wasn’t just physical, not even close. Chris is romantic, and dramatic, he’ll love Sebastian showing up out of nowhere to kiss him at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Then he goes right back to panicking. Maybe it isn’t fair to play with Chris’s heart like this, when Sebastian can’t be sure if maybe his departure hurt Chris as much as it did him. And right before Christmas, too.

By the time the cab arrives in Concord, Sebastian is a bundle of nerves, vibrating and ready to catch fire like a livewire, and his voice shakes pathetically as he directs the driver to Chris’s house just outside of town. It’s dark, as they pull up. Not a single light on inside, and no streetlamps either since it’s off the main road. The car’s headlights throw bright yellow light out into the blackness, illuminating the house and the trees and the snow in a way that’s almost spooky. Without even the light from the moon, because it’s cloudy, Chris’s house looks abandoned and haunted instead of the warm, inviting place Sebastian had been so sweetly welcomed into. It makes what little confidence he had left sink right down into his designer shoes.

“Can you wait?” Sebastian says to the driver. “In case he isn’t home?”

“They don’t know you’re coming?” the man asks, turning around in his seat and frowning back at Sebastian in confusion.

Sebastian shakes his head. “It’s, uh… I’m surprising a friend. Sort of.”

He gets a raised eyebrow in return, that he understands because what kind of friend would show up unannounced at 11pm on New Year’s Eve? He doesn’t bother explaining any further, just asks the man again to wait, which he agrees to.

The snow crunches loudly under Sebastian’s soles as he climbs out of the cab and makes his way up the walk to Chris’s front door. He wonders if Chris made the Christmas wreath himself, as he approaches the wooden door. It’s right out of a home décor magazine, perfectly arranged and stylish, and Sebastian wouldn’t be at all surprised if it wasn’t store-bought. That’s the kind of person Chris is, and Sebastian feels a swoop in his stomach.

He knocks. And waits. And knocks again, and waits again. Unsurprisingly, he gets no answer. No lights turning on, no Dodger barking inside. Of course Chris isn’t home. He’s so well-loved in this place, he probably had a handful of parties to pick from. Dozens of people who adore him, friends and family surrounding him with drinks and smiles and laughter. He probably isn’t missing Sebastian at all. Sebastian _left_. He got up out of Chris’s bed and called a taxi and left and never even looked back. He isn’t the type of person Chris would bother missing.

He trudges back to the idling car, molars clenched together as he tries to keep it together. The driver looks at him again, over his shoulder and twisted around in the seat, as he gets in.

“What now, boss?” the man asks.

“I don’t…” Sebastian rubs his hands roughly over his face and then pushes his hair back. It’s an excellent question, and he has no idea how to answer it. He should have thought this through, and he didn’t, at all. “I guess… there’s a diner in town, called Mandie’s. She might know where my friend is… although probably not. And fuck, it’s probably not even open.”

“I know Mandie’s,” the driver says. He turns back in his seat, and puts the car into gear. “I grew up around here. Let’s give it a try, huh?”

Sebastian meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, and the man is smiling at him sympathetically. “Okay,” he answers.

The diner, predictably, isn’t open either.

Sebastian slouches back in his seat, tipping his head back against the headrest. He’s such an idiot. This was such a _stupid_ , reckless decision. If he’d paused to give it one minute of thought, he would have realized that. At least if he’d shown up her tomorrow, there would have been some chance Chris would be home. If he’d thought about it at all he could have predicted Chris would be out and everything else in town would be closed.

“Who is it you’re looking for?” the driver asks.

“Chris Evans,” Sebastian miserably tells the carpeted ceiling.

The man hums thoughtfully. “I remember him. He was a few years ahead of me in school. Took off as soon as he graduated, became a big-shot in New York, right?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t know he’d moved back. But, I guess I wouldn’t, since I live in the City now, too. Boston, I mean. Not Manhattan.”

Sebastian just nods wordlessly. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what to do next, if he should go back to the Inn and get a room and try again tomorrow, if he should just take this as a sign that it was an insane non-plan to begin with and have the cabbie drive him back to the airport. This is going to be the most expensive taxi ride of his life. At least when he was here last time, he could charge those rides to his accounts as a business expense and be partially reimbursed. This time, he definitely can’t.

“I know where his parents live,” the driver continues. “Or, at least I know where they _did_ live, when I was a kid. They might not still live there.”

“I’ve never met his parents. I can’t just show up on their doorstep at close to midnight.” Sebastian digs the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, sighing in resignation. “Alright, this… Thank you, for your help. But I can’t –”

“Wait!” the driver cries.

Sebastian looks up. He follows the driver’s pointing finger, and sees a woman, bundled up tightly in a thick winter coat, coming out of the diner and locking the door behind her.

“Oh my god,” Sebastian breathes. He jumps up out of the car, hurrying over, wincing when he startles her. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m not here to rob you or anything, I promise.”

Mandie stares at him, eyes narrowing like she’s trying to place his face. “You’re… Sebastian, right? Chris’s friend?”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, hi. Look, this is gonna sound insane, but do you have any idea where he is?”

Her eyes stay narrowed. She considers him for a moment, sizing him up, and then she crosses her arms over her chest. “You know, he was in here the other day, picking up a to-go order. He looked terrible. Like somebody ripped his heart out and stomped on it.”

Bile rises in Sebastian’s throat, and he has to swallow over it to keep himself from gagging. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, and it’s the truth. His voice cracks as he continues, “We both always knew I’d be leaving. I don’t live here, I was always gonna leave once the storm broke. I had to. But I didn’t know… It was only three days, I wasn’t supposed to…”

He flounders, failing to find the right words, but her expression softens as she understands him anyway. “And that’s why you’re looking for him?”

“I know it’s crazy.”

“Love is crazy, my dear. No use fighting it.” She pauses, before adding, “And I do know where he is.”

“You do?” Sebastian wants to cry in relief. He wants to pick her up and spin her around and then lie down on the snow-covered sidewalk and sob.

“His sister Shanna throws a New Year’s party every year. I was just headed there, myself. _If_ you promise you’re not on your way to break his heart again, you can come with me.”

“I’m not,” Sebastian swears, the words coming out in a grateful rush of breath. “I swear I’m not, exactly the opposite.”

“Alright, then. My car’s around back,” she says, with a smile.

Sebastian nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes back to the cab. He gets his bag, pays the driver an exorbitant amount of money with a very generous tip, thanks him profusely for his help, and then follows Mandie around the back of the building to her blue sedan.

“Let’s go get your man,” she says to him, grinning at him as if they’re about to go on this big, romantic adventure, which Sebastian supposes isn’t untrue. It’s just that this particular adventure also has the potential to make or break his life, and that’s… a little daunting.

It’s a short drive, only a few blocks south of the diner. The house is a yellow two-storey, tucked into a cozy cul-de-sac. There are cars everywhere, the driveway full and every spot on the street occupied for a ways, so they have to park on the next block and walk. Sebastian shivers as they do, for reasons other than the chilly wind.

A woman answers the door after Mandie knocks.

“This is Sebastian,” Mandie tells her, after they embrace and wish each other happy New Year.

Shanna’s forehead folds into a frown almost instantly. “ _That_ Sebastian?” she asks, judgment written all over her face.

“Guilty,” he says awkwardly.

“Why are you here?” Her arms cross, too, just like Mandie’s had. Protective of Chris, clearly all too willing to shove Sebastian back out into the snow and slam the door in his face if she doesn’t like his response.

Because everything seems to be riding on it, because she’s the one thing standing in between him and Chris, Sebastian takes a deep breath and answers truthfully, stripping himself bare in front of a person he only just met. “I’m here to tell your brother I’m crazy about him, and he’s all I’ve thought about for the last seven days, and to beg him to give me another chance.”

“Oh.” She blinks at him twice, and then her face breaks into a smile that looks just like Chris’s. “Alright, good answer. Come on in. Chris is off sulking in the corner of the living room because he misses your dumb ass so much.”

“Fuck.” Sebastian’s heart clenches painfully in his ribcage as she steps back and lets them in out of the cold. “Really?”

“You did a number on him.” She points, to a room down the hall where all the music and chatter seems to be coming from. “Go fix it.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Sebastian makes his way down the hall, heart racing again but suddenly he’s determined instead of anxious. He can fix this. He can. It isn’t entirely his fault that Chris’s heart is broken, but it’s broken nonetheless and he can put it back together. Chris being sad is absolutely the last thing in the world Sebastian wants. That handsome face should only ever be smiling.

Then he rounds the corner, and through the din and movement of bodies and dancing and laughter, he spots Chris, as his sister had said, in an armchair in the corner of the room. His legs are crossed, and Dodger is at his feet, and he’s just staring out at nothing at all. Spaced out, eyes not focused on anything even though noise and friends surround him. He doesn’t look upset, he just looks empty. One of his nephews, the older one, Sebastian thinks, approaches him with a hopeful look, and Chris just smiles at him sadly and shakes his head. The boy sighs, and slumps away, disappointed that Chris turned down whatever he’d been asking for. Whatever pieces of Sebastian’s heart that were left intact suddenly feel significantly more bruised.

He takes a deep breath. As he walks over, a few of the guests he passes give him a quizzical look because they don’t recognize him. It isn’t until he’s only a few feet away from Chris that Chris finally snaps out of his trance and notices him, looking up. His lips part, mouth falling open just slightly, eyes widening like he can’t believe they’re really seeing what they’re seeing.

“Hey,” Sebastian says.

Chris just gapes at him, shaking his head a little.

“Don’t look like you’re having much fun,” Sebastian says, trying to toe a precarious line between teasing and sympathetic and likely not managing it at all.

“You’re… here. Why are you here?” Chris asks, barely loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Is there somewhere we could talk?”

Another bewildered blink, and then Chris shakes himself a little like he’s dusting cobwebs out of his own mind, and nods. “Yeah. Uh… yeah, come with me.”

He gets up, and Sebastian follows him back out of the room. More people are staring, now, and whispering. Sebastian’s cheeks heat up. He wonders how many of them know. He wonders if the news of Chris having a fling with a big-city lawyer who left him on Christmas Eve has spent the last week quickly spreading throughout the entire town, and if every Concord resident now knows exactly who he is and exactly what happened between him and their golden boy. The thought makes him want to fling himself into the Hudson. He tries not to make eye contact with any of them.

Chris leads him outside, through a sliding glass door in the kitchen and onto a snow-covered patio. Multi-colored Christmas lights line the fence surrounding the small backyard, and a tall evergreen tree is strung with white ones. It looks like a Christmas wonderland, even though the holiday is technically over, and takes Sebastian right back. To Mandie’s, to the winter market, to peppermint hot chocolate, to the Christmas tree throw pillow on Chris’s couch. To twinkling lights, to soft music, to the way Chris’s eyes had shone in the firelight. The impact hits him so hard it could knock him over, if he didn’t have the back of a lawn chair to grab in order to steady himself.

Chris’s back is turned, broad shoulders tense underneath his thick navy sweater, and Sebastian just opens his mouth and lets it all out before he loses his nerve.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so fucking sorry, Chris. I don’t – I know we both knew I’d have to go, but fuck, I didn’t think it would hurt so much. I didn’t think any of this would happen, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I can’t even tell you how much I missed you. I don’t think I got more than three hours sleep any night this week, I got home and suddenly my bed felt big and cold and empty and I hated it. I hated every second I was away from you, everything just felt wrong and bad and I… I understand if you’re mad at me. I understand if you hate me for leaving, I really do, but nothing was the same anymore after I left. I can’t get you out of my head, I wasn’t supposed to fall for you in three days but I did, and I don’t know if there’s any chance you feel the same way but I couldn’t just never see you again, never tell you that I –”

Sebastian’s chaotic stream of babble is cut off when Chris lets out a sob that makes Sebastian’s heart leap into his throat. When Chris turns, there are tears rolling down his cheeks, disappearing into his beard before they can freeze on his skin in the icy air.

“Chris,” Sebastian whispers, tears burning behind his own eyes at the sight of him.

“You came back,” Chris whispers back.

It isn’t what he was expecting Chris to say, but Sebastian nearly starts sobbing himself. “Yeah,” he sighs.

“I missed you so much.”

Sebastian inhales shakily, and laughs in disbelief. “You did?”

“So fucking much,” Chris says, as he closes the distance between them in a few short strides and pulls Sebastian roughly into a kiss.

Their teeth bump and Chris’s hands aren’t gentle in grabbing handfuls of Sebastian’s coat but it’s _perfect_. Sebastian wraps his arms around Chris’s neck, holds onto him so tightly. Chris kisses him like he’s life-saving medicine, like he’s been drowning all this time and on the verge of slipping under the surface and Sebastian is a floatation device pulling him back up just in time. There’s desperation in it, and it tastes like the salt of tears, and Sebastian kisses him back as fiercely as he can, wants to leave bruises on Chris’s skin that never heal, so he never has to spend one more second thinking Sebastian left him forever.

When they pull apart to gasp for air, Chris doesn’t let Sebastian move away. He keeps him in close, foreheads touching, one arm tight around Sebastian’s waist and the other in his hair. Sebastian can smell him, and feel his warmth, and wants to burrow into this embrace and never, ever come back out.

Chris’s eyes move, gaze focusing behind Sebastian, and he grins. Sebastian frowns in confusion, craning his neck around to see what Chris is looking at. Shanna, Mandie, Carly, and at least a half a dozen others have their foreheads pressed up against the glass door, watching nosily. When Sebastian turns, they all spring into action, some blushing and hurrying away, others pointing obviously out at the tree in the yard, pretending to have been looking at that instead of watching them make out.

“God,” he laughs, turning back to Chris and burying his face in Chris’s sweater.

“Sorry.” Chris laughs, too. “They can’t be stopped.” Loudly, clearly speaking so they can hear him through the glass, Chris calls, “Go away!” and then laughs again at the reaction he must get. “Vultures, every one of them.”

“They love you.”

“I love them, too.” Chris’s nose bumps Sebastian’s cheek, urging him to lift his head up so Chris can kiss him again.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” Sebastian confesses, in the miniscule space between their lips. “I can’t promise you anything, I can’t promise we’ll fall in love and get married and adopt kids and all those things you deserve. I was just so miserable without you. So if you want, if you feel the same way, we could… try? Long distance sucks but…”

“I don’t care,” Chris says urgently. “I don’t care about any of that, and I can’t promise you all those things either, I can’t promise long distance _won’t_ suck, but it’s worth it, to be with you. What we had for three fucking days is the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole life, Seb. I’ve been a mess since you left.”

“God,” Sebastian breathes. “Yeah. Me too, to all of that.”

“And you’re wrong,” Chris continues, looking stubborn. “You have nothing to be sorry for, none of this is your fault. We did both know you’d be leaving. We both knew it’d be stupid to get attached. I’m just a big, sappy meatball and I fell for you anyway.”

“Me too,” Sebastian repeats, smiling into another kiss. “To all of that, also.”

Beyond the glass doors, the distant chatter suddenly gets louder, and voices start faintly counting down from twenty. Sebastian looks at his watch, and turns his smile to Chris. Chris, who isn’t crying anymore, although shiny tear tracks are still visible on his cheeks.

Sebastian brushes them away. “Almost midnight.”

“Such good timing,” Chris says. “Very romantic.”

“It was a happy accident. I had to make a few stops, before I tracked you down.”

Chris shakes his head, this time like he’s in disbelief, but the best possible kind. “You came back,” he says again. His warm hand cups Sebastian’s cheek.

“Don’t let me leave again. At least not without knowing exactly when I’ll be back.”

“I won’t.”

From inside, the voices shout _three, two, one, HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

Chris’s smile is soft, and he brings Sebastian in, and slides their lips together. Behind his eyes, Sebastian nearly sees fireworks.


	6. Epilogue

_Four months later_

“Do you want coffee?” Chris’s voice calls, loudly to be heard over the sound of the shower running.

Sebastian is in the stall, rinsing conditioner out of his hair. “Yes, please!” he calls back.

Chris doesn’t answer, but the door shuts behind him and Sebastian is alone again. He finishes up quickly, toweling himself off and pulling on a pair of sweatpants that he notices only after he’s tied the drawstring belong to Chris. Sebastian smiles to himself in the mirror. Chris really likes it when Sebastian wears his clothes. Sebastian grabs his moisturizer and spreads it in an even layer over his face. He’d never gone more than 24 hours without shave, since he was a teenager, because being styled and clean-cut was part of his professional appearance. Now, week-old scruff covers his cheeks and chin, and he doesn’t hate how it looks on him. He runs a bit of gel through his wet hair, just enough so that it won’t dry in wonky waves. His scalp is a little tender, as his fingers drag over it. That makes him smile again, flooded with the memories of Chris pulling on his hair last night, a little bit rough and just this side of painful, exactly how Sebastian likes it. If they didn’t have an appointment this morning, he’d drag Chris back into bed and beg him for a second round.

In the kitchen, Chris is bare except for tight black boxer-briefs, that hug his hips and thighs so snugly, outlining the gorgeous shape of him. His back is turned, so Sebastian gets a good look in the daylight of the scratch-marks he’d left there, along the tapered lines of Chris’s muscles.

Chris looks over his shoulder, smiling at Sebastian and offering him a mug, mixed with milk and sugar just how he likes it. Sebastian takes it and sips, sighing gratefully. When he reopens his eyes, Chris is grinning dopily at him. Sebastian loves that smile. He loves how sincere it is.

“What?” he asks, squirming a little under the attention.

“Nothing.” Chris takes the mug out of Sebastian’s hand and wraps his big arms around Sebastian’s waist. He kisses him, slow and soft. “Just really, really love you.”

“Love you, too,” Sebastian whispers. He tangles his fingers in Chris’s hair and gets lost for a few moments in another kiss.

Chris leads Sebastian to the couch with their coffee, sitting sideways on it and letting Sebastian snuggle into his arms. Outside the expansive windows, snow is falling gently, dusting the evergreen trees. It’s late for snow, already mid-April, but it gives Chris’s forest backyard a Christmassy feel that reminds Sebastian of the first time they’d sat together on this couch.

“It’s beautiful,” he says.

“You’re beautiful,” Chris responds, kissing his hair. It should be ridiculous, but instead it feels entirely genuine.

Sebastian has to hide his face in Chris’s neck. He’s never been loved like this. Never thought he would be, either. Chris loves like he does everything else – big and determined and all-consuming. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Most times, it’s wonderful.

“Hey, what if… um.” He clears his throat, gearing up to say what he’s been cultivating the nerve to for a week. “What if I moved here?”

Chris stills. Sebastian can feel him breathing, but can’t see his face from this position. With his heart pounding against his ribcage, he waits. Slowly, Chris’s hand slides up over Sebastian’s chest, palm pressing right in the middle.

“You’re scared to ask me that?” Chris asks, feeling Sebastian’s racing heartbeat under his warm fingers. His voice sounds like the thought breaks his own heart.

“Not scared. A little nervous, maybe.”

“Seb. Sebastian.” Chris nudges his cheek with his nose, and Sebastian extracts his face from the safety of Chris’s neck and blinks up at him. Chris’s eyes are all watery again. “I’ve wanted you to move here since the night I met you, sweetheart. But I never wanted you to do it for me.”

“What if I’m doing it for us?” Sebastian reaches up to brush the backs of his knuckles along Chris’s cheek.

“What about your job?”

“There’s a firm here, that would take me on. I talked to the managing partner last week. It would still be family law, but none of those vicious big money cases. Just – helping real families through a tough time, you know? Maybe I could even start doing some pro bono work. I just wanna be doing something worthwhile, for a change.”

Chris looks stunned, and then a fear tears do spill over. “You planned this all out?”

Sebastian shifts, extracting himself from Chris’s arms just for the amount of time it takes to crawl into his lap so he can kiss the salt off Chris’s cheeks. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I wanna be here, with you. I don’t mean in this house, necessarily, I get it if you still want to have your space, but –”

“Of course you can move in here,” Chris interrupts. He laughs wetly, but then frowns again. “You won’t miss New York?”

“I don’t care about New York,” Sebastian says, honestly. “I never really did. It’s just the city I happen to live in. It’s not home. You’re home.”

“Seb,” Chris breathes. He tilts his chin up for a kiss, and emotion pours off every pass of his lips over Sebastian’s. They may have only known each other for a few months, but already Sebastian can tell practically everything that’s going through Chris’s mind at any time. Right now, his elation and happiness are palpable, and knowing that he’s responsible for that makes Sebastian so damn glad he took a leap of faith.

It’s so easy to get caught up in each other, forget everything around them, that if Sebastian’s watch hadn’t beeped to remind them that they should get going to their first appointment, he’s pretty sure they would’ve forgotten about it altogether.

“We gotta go, baby,” Sebastian murmurs against his lips before he pulls back. “Don’t wanna keep your Ma waiting.”

Chris groans. “Can we reschedule? It’s just my Ma, she won’t mind.”

“You mean, she’s your Ma so she knows the only reason why you’d pass up on this appointment is that you’re too busy getting laid?”

“Ugh,” Chris says wrinkling his nose. “You’re right. Goddammit.” He sighs, before standing up and holding out a hand for Sebastian to pull himself up off the couch. Sebastian deliberately overcompensates so he smacks right into Chris’s chest.

“ _Oooff_.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian grins, not actually sorry at all. He wraps his arms around Chris’s torso and squeezes tightly, relishing the feeling of Chris’s arms winding around him as well as they stand there for a minute, gently swaying from side to side.

“I love you.” Chris whispers it into his hair again, and it doesn’t matter how many times Sebastian hears it, it will always, always make his heart swell in his chest and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout his limbs.

He hums against Chris’s throat. “Love you. Now, let’s go.”

They wrap up warmly in snow boots and padded coats and gloves, and tell Dodger to stay, even though he’s making it very hard when he treats them to the saddest puppy eyes either of them have ever seen. Normally, they’d take him with them when they visit Chris’s family, but not today.

They set off on foot, since the Evans’ family house is only about a twenty minute walk from Chris’s place, holding hands as best as their gloves will allow.

“Hey,” Sebastian says as the house comes into view, squeezing Chris’s hand. “You’re sure about this?”

Chris smiles at him warmly. His cheeks are pink from the cold and he looks boyish and happy. “Yeah. I just really want to give something back to the community, you know?”

“Chris, you already give so much to this community. I could literally ask any passing stranger and they’d tell me how much they adore Christopher Robert Evans and how this town would be nothing without him.”

Sebastian can almost hear Chris’s eye roll. “What I mean is I want to give it something tangible, and you know it.”

“Well,” Sebastian says, giving Chris a mischievous grin. “It’s a lotta money, Christopher, and I feel like it is my duty as a lawyer to make sure that you’re absolutely certain you want to go through with it.”

“If I needed a lawyer I woulda hired one, _Sebastian_ ,” Chris counters, sticking out his tongue like an actual five year old. “You don’t have to worry about anything today, you can relax and just be my gorgeous, supportive boyfriend instead.”

“Fine,” Sebastian sighs, “I guess I can do that.” He leans in to peck Chris’s cheek, the soft skin cold under his lips.

Lisa answers the door dressed in a white, cashmere sweater. The Evanses really are fond of knitwear in wintertime, and it’s starting to rub off on Sebastian; he’s added at least five sweaters to his own wardrobe since he started dating Chris.

“Don’t let the cold in, boys,” Lisa says, gesturing for them to come in. They follow her into the living room, where she sits down on the couch and pulls Sebastian down beside her.

“You can get us some coffee, can’t you, love?” she says, addressing Chris.

Chris raises his eyebrows. “Oh, I see how it is. I’ve been replaced as the favorite son. That’s nice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chris,” Lisa frowns. After a beat, she adds, “Scott was always my favorite.”

Sebastian and Lisa giggle together as Chris stomps off to the kitchen, huffing in mock-indignation.

“So,” Lisa says when Chris has left the room. “How are things?”

“Things are good,” Sebastian says, feeling his face break out into a genuine smile. “They’re great, even.”

He hesitates for a moment, because he doesn’t want to speak out of turn, but then he remembers how open Chris has always been with his mother and realizes Chris would probably tell her the news soon anyway.

“We, um. I mean, I’m… moving here. We’re tired of long distance. Moving in, with Chris.” He feels a blush rise in his cheeks, and he glances at Lisa, only to find her looking at him with so much open affection that it almost takes his breath away. He sees where Chris gets it from.

“That’s wonderful, my love,” she says softly. “I’m so happy for you both.”

She leans in and Sebastian does the same, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly for a moment.

When she pulls back, Lisa says, “I’m sure we’ve made this clear enough by now, but just for the record; we all consider you part of the family, you know that, right? Chris has always been a happy kid, but these past few months he’s been happier than I’ve ever seen him, and that’s all down to you.” She smiles, sniffling a little. “So. Anything you need, you come to us, alright?”

Sebastian’s throat feels suspiciously tight all of a sudden, and he blinks rapidly a few times. “Thank you,” he says, squeezing Lisa’s hand. “I couldn’t have wished for a better family to be part of.”

That’s the moment Chris chooses to walk back into the room, carrying a tray laden with three mugs of coffee and a packet of chocolate chip cookies.

He stops in his tracks when he sees Sebastian and Lisa’s red-rimmed eyes and clasped hands. “Uh,” he says. “Did something… Should I...?”

“We’re fine, Chris,” Sebastian laughs. “Just having a little heart to heart. I told your Mom I’m moving to Concord.”

Instantly, Chris’s face lights up, like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great, Ma?” he asks, smiling so wide it could light up the whole town.

“It is, baby,” Lisa tells him, with a matching smile of her own. “It’s the best.” Then, she pats the couch on her other side. “Now come sit down and let’s talk business.”

Sebastian sits back, content to watch Chris and Lisa talk everything through again. Last week, Chris had called him with the news that the local Youth Theater was in danger of permanent closure, mostly due to damage that the frost and snow had caused to the building over the past winter. It was an old building and there had been issues before, but usually they’d been able to fix whatever needed fixing without too much hassle. This time, however, the damage was structural, and it would require a significant financial injection to get everything repaired the degree that the building would be fit for purpose again. And since the Theater relied mostly on donations and volunteers, it was looking like the only realistic option was closure.

That’s where Chris comes in. He’d been a member of the Theater Club when he was younger, and even when he got too old for it, he’d seen every day how much the club meant to so many kids living in Concord. It was a place to play and let your hair down, to meet other kids and create fantasy worlds; pretend to be someone else for a while. The volunteers were incredible and the productions they put on every year were so full of genuine fun and enthusiasm that they blew the whole town away year after year.

The idea that all that would cease to exist was unthinkable to Chris, and so he had decided to make a one off, anonymous donation to the theatre that would cover the costs of all the repairs. Lisa, who volunteered as the Theater’s treasurer for the past few years, agreed to help him with the logistics of the donation and composing the statement that would be put before the Theater’s board. All anonymous, of course, although Sebastian suspects everyone will know who the generous benefactor is, anyway. Of course, despite what he’d said earlier, Sebastian supports Chris’s decision completely. He knows how important the community is to him, how eager he is to contribute to it in a meaningful way. Helping kids build their self-confidence and live out their wildest fantasies is just about the most _Chris_ way Sebastian can think of to do that.

Once they’ve wrapped everything up, it’s almost time to head to their second appointment of the afternoon. They finish their second coffees, then say their goodbyes. Lisa makes them promise to come for dinner next weekend with Scott, Shanna, Carly and the kids. “I’m making that roast you loved so much last time, Sebastian,” she says as she hugs him, and he almost tears up again.

They walk to their destination in comfortable silence, just enjoying an afternoon walk together.

Sebastian still marvels sometimes at just how much he’s able to enjoy these simple pleasures these days. If someone had told him half a year ago that soon he’d be spending all his free time (of which he’s had more lately, after dropping a significant part of his case load) in a suburb of Boston, just strolling through the woods, going to local farmer’s markets and reading by the fire at night, Sebastian would have laughed in their face. And yet, here he is. He feels more at peace than he can ever remember feeling in New York. And what’s even more remarkable; he doesn’t even care what anybody back in New York thinks about his sudden change in lifestyle. He’d thought he’d be bothered by the rumors and the sly comments from his boss and co-workers, but he’s not. He’s finally found something he cares about not just with his rational mind, but with his heart and soul.

They walk up the drive of the little country-style cottage and ring the doorbell. As they wait for someone to come to the door, Chris squeezes his hand again. This time, Sebastian thinks he’s probably not even aware he’s doing it. He’s just genuinely a little nervous and excited, and it’s so unbearably cute that Sebastian has to do his best to refrain from tackling his boyfriend to the frozen ground right there and then. Public indecency on an old lady’s doorstep is probably still frowned upon, at least outside of New York.

The door opens, and a woman of around 40 appears, dressed in a white nurse’s uniform.

She smiles warmly at them. “You must be Chris and Sebastian.”

“That’s us,” Chris replies, giving her a little wave. The dork.

“Well, come in then,” the woman says. “Bettina and Daisy are ready for you. Oh, I’m Susan, by the way.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Susan,” Sebastian says, politely, following Chris inside.

There are moving boxes stacked up along the hallway, and the three of them navigate around them to reach the living room. “Please excuse the mess,” Susan says. “Bettina’s cousin Michael is coming by tomorrow morning to pick up what she isn’t taking with her, and then we should have her settled in the nursing home by tomorrow afternoon.”

“You don’t need to talk about me like I’m not here, Susan,” comes another voice from the couch in the living room. Despite her old age, Bettina’s eyes are twinkling as she greets them both. Daisy is curled up beside her on the couch, her head resting in Bettina’s lap. “I may be old but I can still speak for myself.”

“Don’t I know it,” Susan teases, winking at her.

“Oh, boys,” Bettina sighs. She looks serious now. “I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re willing to take Daisy in.” She strokes an old, weathered hand over Daisy’s dark brown fur. “The idea that I was going to have to send her back to the shelter again was breaking my heart. It was bad enough I had to do it when I was in the hospital. I know you’re all so good to the animals in your care back at the shelter,” she says, addressing Chris, “but it’s just not the same as being part of a home, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Chris agrees, sitting down on Bettina’s other side and taking her hand in his. “And there’s no need to thank us, Bettina. We’re over the moon to be able to offer Daisy a good home where she can enjoy her old age in peace.”

“We’ve got a cozy little corner set up for her already, near the fire place,” Sebastian chips in, giving her a reassuring smile.

Bettina nods, petting Daisy’s flank. “Well, then. I guess it’s time for us to say goodbye, isn’t it, my love?”

“Just goodbye for now,” Chris corrects gently. “We’ll be coming by with her to visit you so often you’ll get sick of us in no time.”

Bettina snorts. “Of two strapping young men coming to visit me with my sweet darling girl? I doubt it.”

Chris lets out a bark of laughter, throwing back his head and clutching his chest. Sebastian watches him with a soft feeling in his chest, not caring one bit that he’s probably got the dopiest smile on his face. The knowing look that Susan gives him when he finally tears his gaze away from Chris gently scratching Daisy behind the ears and meets her eyes confirms his suspicions. Ah, well. Let everyone know exactly how much he cares about his man.

“Right,” Susan says after a few more minutes of chit chat. “It was lovely to get to know you two, and a relief to know Daisy will be in such good hands, but I’m gonna need to give Bettina her medication before dinner.”

“Of course,” Sebastian nods. “We’ll get out of your hair.”

Chris gets up too, ruffling Daisy’s fur to wake her up enough to jump off the couch. “Right, beautiful. You ready to come with us? Dodger’s dying to meet his new roommate, you know.”

“We’ll stretch our legs for a bit and then you can sleep by the fire all night long, if you want,” Sebastian adds as he clicks on the leash that Susan handed him, then presses a kiss to Daisy’s forehead.

They say their goodbyes, promising Bettina to come by in a few days so they can check out her new lodgings, and then they’re back outside.

Sebastian takes Chris’s hand with his free hand, leaning in to kiss him briefly on the lips. “Happy?”

“Hmm,” Chris nods, eyes so bright they’re almost glowing. “Very happy.”

“Good,” Sebastian says, “me too. C’mon then, you two. Let’s get you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come yell with us on tumblr about these two!
> 
> [Paperstorm](https://paper-storm.tumblr.com/)  
> [Musette22](https://musette22.tumblr.com/)


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